


Non-binary

by FrenchCaresse



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Bisexual Rhett McLaughlin, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gender Identity, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non binary Link Neal, Other, Pining, Rhett/ Jessie McLaughlin, Rhett/ other Youtuber (non-specified), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchCaresse/pseuds/FrenchCaresse
Summary: It wasn't about sex.Link had told him so. Multiple times.It was about Link learning who he was, finding what made him comfortable in his own skin.It was about gender identity and self-confidence.It was NOT about sex.And Rhett understood. It wasn't a turn-on for Link.  He understood, and yet...Sometimes, Rhett couldn't even breathe through the intensity of his desire. Sometimes, it felt like screaming was the only thing that might help.Because for Rhett, Link's self-expression was very very very sexual.***Or, a journey through gender identity, sexual orientation, friendship, and love.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 100
Kudos: 64





	1. Buddies

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This is a work of pure fiction, although the explanation of gender identity Link's character uses is legit and one I subscribe to. Rhett and Link are real people whose gender identites and sexual orientations are their own business. This is not real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. Hi! I had convinced myself not to start another long story. Because Life.  
> Then I thought, just a short piece, nothing explicit. Not too deep or emotional.
> 
> Yeah. Right. I can already tell this story wants to be long.  
> And angsty.  
> And eventually sexy.  
> Because Stories.

It wasn't about sex.

Link had told him so. Multiple times.

It was about Link learning who he was, finding what made him comfortable in his own skin.

It was about gender identity and self-confidence.

It was NOT about sex.

And Rhett understood. It wasn't a turn-on for Link. He understood, and yet...

Sometimes, Rhett couldn't even breathe through the intensity of his desire. Sometimes, it felt like screaming was the only thing that might help.

Because for Rhett, Link's self-expression was very very _very_ sexual.

\---

Things had been going so well. Then it had all changed.

Link.

Rhett.

Life.

Their relationship.

Everything.

\---

It all changed in a single minute, like a cheesy movie plot twist.

Bam. Flipped upside down and sideways when he was least expecting it.

Because Rhett never even saw change coming. Not at all.

Goddamnit.

———

It all changed because of a hotel room.

More precisely, it changed because of a hotel-room key.

A stupid plastic card with a cheery logo slanted across it.

If Rhett wanted to be truly exact, it all happened because of _Link’s_ hotel-room card. The one that was in Rhett’s back pocket.   
  


Maybe the root of it was actually how close, how trusting of each other Rhett and Link were.   
They never had any secrets.   
  


But still, Link had _almost_ managed it. He had nearly kept a secret. A big. Motherfucking. Giant. Secret.

Link had changed.

And his best friend did not realize this.

He didn’t know, until a scratched up white plastic rectangle opened a hotel-room door and changed everything.

——

Rhett and Link had taken to keeping each other’s spare room card. They had done it for years.

Hotels always gave them two for each room. And ever since the swimming pool incident in Kentucky, well... it just made sense to have each other’s back.   
  
  


—-

It wasn’t as though they even used the other person's card, usually.

They were way past their initial broke sharing a bedroom days. Their boudaries were stronger now, clearer. They respected each other's space. And no, despite what fans speculated, they did not use the tour as an opportunity to indulge in explosive gay sex.

Having access to the other's room was simply a thing they did: check in, exchange card, done.

Just to be safe.

\---

But maybe their boundaries were not quite solid enough. Rhett really didn't think about respecting privacy before he opened the door to Link’s room unnanounced.

It was just... the song had finally clicked. For over a week, he had been stuck on that melody. The transition bugged him, in a visceral itchy way he couldn’t adequately describe. It felt... off. And though Link was obviously annoyed at Rhett for not letting them record and putting them behind schedule, he understood. Link trusted Rhett's creative insitincts, musically. So he had backed off and let him stew. And somehow that _not complaining_ made Rhett feel even worse.

So when the right chords just spontaneously seemed to bounce between the dripping tiles and the too-low shower-head... Rhett was so relieved he didn’t think.

_Solved._

Finally.

Humming the modified melody under his breath, Rhett felt the music piling up in his chest. It needed _out_ , needed to be expressed; the song wanted to be free. Rhett needed Link to be there when he blurted it out though, because if he let the song go all alone, it might fizzle into wisps of could-have-been and disappear forgotten into the damp air.

If he had been completely by himself, he might have recorded the tune on his phone, but with Link so near... They had flown in a night early, so they really had nothing special to do till the show tomorrow.

Rhett barely took the time to yank the first things he grabbed from his open bag up sticky humid skin. The song was bouncing off the inside of his skull, and he could hardly stand it.

Oh, tonight was going to be glorious; pitching ideas back and forth with Link, in sync and high on creativity just like the old days.

Humming the song again, trying not to lose it, Rhett shook wet curls from his face, decided he could live with them, and marched two doors down the hallway to barge into Link’s room.

And that was the moment it happened.

The moment that changed their lives forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny intro, and a cliffhanger to boot. Next time, we get into it. Promise.  
> xxx  
> FrenchCaresse


	2. Freefall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always do this to myself! I really meant to keep a comfortable advance and have a regular posting schedule. Because as a reader, those writers who are disciplined enough to do this are my heroes.
> 
> Except I can't. I've tried. When a chapter is done, it needs posting or my brain stops functionning. So here is chapter two, a week early. And gone are my dreams of a reliable posting schedule. Sorry not sorry!
> 
> Poor Rhett is about to go through the wringer.  
> Thank you for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts.

''Hey man!'' Rhett called out as he burst through the door. ''I _finally_ got the song right.''

He vaguely noticed Link, who was sitting on his bed reading, flail comically at the intrusion; Rhett was so distracted by the pressure of the song that swelled in his very synapses that he could barely stand it.

Rhett shoved the door shut, striding on long legs to plop into a hard square piece of furniture that couldn’t decide if it was a giant one-seater or a too-tiny couch.

''Listen, man. If we go, bom bom, bu buuuh bom la-aah! Instead of bu bom, bububu baaa-''

Rhett’s lilting singing died down as the acute ache of suppressing the tune cleared; now that he could finally look outside himself, he took real notice of Link.

Something was... off. Link was _not quite right,_ like the song had been. Like a picture colored just outside the lines; Link was over there, on the bed, but... not normal Link.

Rhett frowned, evaluating what was different.

Link was sitting cross-legged on his still-made bed, motionless and... flat. Completely expressionless.

Fuck.

That guarded look meant much more serious trouble than spitting fire. If Link was pissed about Rhett barging in on him, he would be cursing him out good. And he would have a point, Rhett decided belatedly. He might have walked in on his friend pleasuring himself. God's he could be stupid. There wasn't much to do, in a hotel room by yourself. The possibility was very... Rhett swallowed. Thank goodness! Now _that_ would have been embarassing.

Rhett leaned back, contemplative. He focused all of his attention on Link, absently stroking down his beard. Rhett realized he rarely gave his partner one-hundred percent of his attention these days. Link was no longer a novelty. He was just... there. Familiar. Comforting. His best friend. Rhett twitched, _sharp jab of guilt_ , as he realized that after all their years together, he took Link for granted. Maybe. A bit. Inevitably. Sad, but true.

Link's cheeks burned under the intense sweep of Rhett's green eyes, and he closed his book with a muffled thump.

\---

Link looked... different.

Changed.

First of all, he was wearing Christie’s pajamas. The red checkered pants might have been his own, except they had a shiny silk ribbon bow flopping at the waist. But the black spaghetti-strapped tank top was clearly feminine. There was a wavy strip of lace at the top, stark black against Link’s hard chest. There was also a hint of curve, a promise of boobs Rhett knew Link did not have, created by padding sewn into the garment's bust.

Rhett swallowed, heat crawling down his neck.

_What the fuck?_

After a too-long pause of awkwardly staring at his best friend’s not-boobies, he snapped his guilty gaze to Link’s face.

Rhett’s stomach did an uneasy flopping thing. Link’s face was... defensive. But his expression was not what bothered Rhett. It was the little things that made Rhett gasp. For one, Link was wearing the transparent rounded glasses from Buddy System. Which, _okay_. Not usual but not unheard of. His lips were just a bit too shiny -kissable- Rhett thought. _Wait, what?_ And his eyes looked softer. Or maybe it was his eyelashes that looked fuzzier.

Damn. Link was wearing makeup. Not in-your-face costume make-up; simple natural-looking make-up, like Rhett's wife did.

Link was wearing make-up, all alone in his hotel-room, reading a book.

Rhett swallowed.

Link's hair was pinned to the side over his right ear, bangs sweeping softly back. The hair-do exposed little soft curls at his hairline that were usually hidden. 

Rhett tried to swallow again, around the lump suddenly choking him.

Fuck.

It was Link.

Except. _Not._

If it had been only the clothing, Rhett might have thought the man had packed wrong and somehow wound up with his wife's pj's. But when he added the hair, the glasses, the lip gloss...

Every detail was deliberate.

Subtle, but purposeful.

Fuck.

Rhett's stomach, having recovered from it’s back-flip, proceeded to sink somewhere into the pit of his groin.

''What?'' Rhett began, then stopped. And damn if his voice hadn't squeaked too. Rhett cleared his throat.

''Why?'' he tried again.

And stopped again, not sure how to finish the sentence or even, if he _wanted_ to know more.

So fucked.

''You’re dressed like a girl.'' Rhett finally blurted.

\---

It was the wrong thing to say.

Rhett knew it instantly, the second Link’s blue eyes narrowed. Link's jaw took that defensive angle and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a rough swallow.

Because this was Link.

Rhett could still read him, even with his hair all floofy.

Link.   
  


But changed.

Link.

Link, who was working himself up to rip Rhett a new one; Rhett knew he deserved it, to be honest. But Rhett was older now, too aware of their dynamics. Getting into a fight - and man, would an agressive shouting match help with the tension quivering between them- would serve no purpose. It would just be a distraction; an evasion of the real issue. Rhett would never learn the reason behind Link's odd behavior if they tore each other apart over Rhett not knocking like a civilized human.

A large part of Rhett actually _prefered_ that route.

Rhett knew, deep in his chilled bones, that Link dressing like a woman in the quiet solitude of his own room was mother-fucking serious.

It was world changing, on a tectonic scale.

This was not fun dressing up for comedy; there was no ''hah-hah gottcha'' punch-line to come.

Link had made a deeply private decison that Rhett's stupid non-boundary-respecting blunder had exposed.

A secret, thrust into the light.

A superficial confrontation would not change that truth, even if it allowed a way around it. 

Shit.

\---

''Who do you think you are?'' Link threw the words in cutting clipped tones.

'' You think you can waltz into my room like that? Just open my door and-''

Rhett raised his hands placatingly, interrupting the budding indignant rant. He spoke right over Link, loudly, _too loudly_ , but it was necessary.

''I’m sorry, Link. Okay?'' 

''You can't do that! You just CAN'T!'' Links ears were red.

Rhett apologized, like the big giant oaf he was.

''I know, dude. Belive me, I really shouldn’t have done that.'' 

Link shut his mouth, sullenly staring at the foot of the bed.

Rhett continued ''I should have called you, or texted, or... something.''

Link didn't move at all, but he seemed to curl into himself somehow. Link realized that fighting about a door was useless too, of course he did. Done was done. He was not a teenaged hot-head. He was older, just like Rhett. They were _Dads; s_ olving conflicts was second nature now.

''I should have, I don't know, just fucking... _knocked,_ like a normal person.''

''YES. You should have.'' Link's tone was still sharp.

Rhett dissolved into blabbering, skirting closer to the real question.

''I realize it now, even if it changes fucking nothing. I just... The song was...''

Rhett finished, voice small.

''I wasn't thinking. It was a stupid mistake, okay? My bad. ''

Link stared at the comforter for a long minute, making the silence stretch. Then suddenly, he looked straight into Rhett's eyes. Even from across the room, it took Rhett's breath away.

Because _that,_ behind the defiance and stubborn bluster, _that_ was FEAR in his best friend's wide eyes.   
  


\---

Rhett shuddered. Link was afraid of him. He was afraid of what Rhett would say, what he might do; Link was scared to death of his friend's reaction and trying to hide it.

The thought cut deep.

Fuck.

Link was vulnerable, and counting on him.

But Rhett... Rhett was overwhelmed by the depth of the betrayal he felt.

Emotionally, something wrenched loose inside Rhett's middle. Anxiety, anger, hurt, concern, disappointment; pent-up emotions slowly oozed out and began to drip echoey off the inside walls of his hollow chest. The dark rivulets gathered into bigger and bigger streams, sliding torrent of frothy ache, plunging into a shadowy bottomless pit Rhett had never even known was at his core.

Rhett couldn't think, not properly.

He was imploding, fuck it.

\---

Rhett could guess what it meant that Link chose to wear female things all alone in his room; Rhett wasn't _completely_ clueless.

He wanted to be there for Link; he wanted to listen and support and shit. Be whatever his fucking best friend needed.

But Rhett...

Couldn't.

He knew what he wanted to do, objectively, but the sudden revelation was too raw.

He couldn't face the shock. He wanted, _needed_ , to be open and accepting. For Link. Link deserved it, God.

But in that choking moment, the implications were too much to accept.

This changed _everything._

Link.

Rhett.

Life.

Their relationship.

Everything.

Rhett couldn't properly be present for Link; not when his whole world was crumbling into a black void that had ripped open in his belly.

''We need to talk,'' Rhett announced, voice rough as he stood. God, suddenly he was on the verge of crying.

He couldn't deal, he needed to get out, he...

''Just... Fuck... I... I’ll be back. One sec.''

Rhett sniffed hard. Motherfucking, goddamnit. He sniffed again.

Rhett very deliberately did not look at the bed, at LINK, as he hurried to the door.

And Rhett retreated to his room like the overwhelmed coward he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see what Link has to share next shall we? See you soon!  
> xxx  
> Frenchcaresse


	3. Paint colors and things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In real life, what Rhett and Link identify as, whether in terms of sexual orientation OR gender, is their own freaking business.  
> This is a work of fiction where the characters identify as needed to advance the storyline. Thank you.

Alone in his room, Rhett allowed himself the mental space to freak out, bent over and clutching his knees.

_Good GOD._

Eventually, the rattle of the air conditioner fan permeated the panic and his heartbeat slowed.

Straightening with a grunt, Rhett wiped cold sweat from his neck.

Well.

That had been... not fun.

But he DID feel better now, more level-headed. His therapist had hammered into him, again and again, that he needed to learn to live with emotions.

Feel them, and be okay with that.

Feel them, and let them pass.

Not repress and pretend until he wanted to punch everything.

She would be proud of him today, he guessed. He would find out soon enough, because he was going to need a session or two to sort his head out. Later.

Rhett grabbed the wine bottle that was meant as a celebration after the show tomorrow. Time enough to worry about the future later.

He took a few more cleansing breaths, preparing himself to return to Link.

Tonight was about Link.

Link deserved better from him.

Time to put on his big boy pants and be the friend Link needed.

—-

Link's blue eyes snapped straight to Rhett's face when he opened the door.

Worried.

''You all right, man?'' Link asked

And oh, the irony. Still, Rhett couldn't ignore the warmth of Link's concern pouring over him like honey.

Link was not trying to hurt Rhett on purpose. He wanted to protect him; Link _cared._

And fuck if Rhett didn't choke up again. _Maybe not so level-headed yet._

''Yeah.'' Rhett croaked.

He made his way to the yellow faux-wood desk that ran along an entire wall of the room, seamlessly curving into a television stand further down.

He set to work opening the wine; having something to do with his hands helped. Or maybe it was only easier to speak because his back was to Link.

_Coward._

''I... was surprised, I guess.'' Rhett admitted. ''I didn't expect... ''

Damn, the cork was stuck; Rhett hadn't screwed in far enough. He tried working the corkscrew front to back, making the cork squeak.

''I panicked, okay?'' He admitted.

The cork squeaked again, but it didn't seem to be moving out. Better try brute force.

Rhett tightened his grip on the wobbly corkscrew bar, awkwardly clutching smooth heavy glass to his chest with his other arm.

His biceps flexed as he pulled, t-shirt sleeve bulging.

Nothing.

''I'm sor-ugh-ry.'' Rhett yanked harder, gritting his teeth. Good. The stupid cork was loosening; Rhett could feel it inching up. But _now_ he was worried that if he pulled any harder, the stopper might fly out too fast and wine would spill everywhere.

''I'm ready now.'' He confessed like a promise.

Changing his grip, he tried wiggling again. Oh, now _that_ , that was working.

''Hah! Got it!'' Rhett triumphed as the cork came free with a delightful pop.

Rhett grinned at Link over his shoulder, finding a fond crooked half-smile in return.

They were going to be okay. 

Rhett went over to the coffee corner and brought back two squat white cups. Ever since they had watched that ''Hotel Cleaning Secrets'' video and Link had learned the clear glasses were often (supposedly) wiped down with window cleaner, he refused to use them.

So wine cups it was.

Mother-fucking tiny cups, damn it.

\----

Rhett sat on the bed by Link. He didn't really think about the significance of the gesture until he saw the relief spread like sunlight over Link's expression.

A smile slanted between them; a more powerful exchange than unecessary words.

Jesus.

There were about to engage in a serious soul-searching conversation. Of course he needed to be close to his friend, it was what they had always done!

The thought that Link worried Rhett would refuse to be near him, physically, after catching him dressed like a woman... Gah.

Rhett shook his hair out. He was going to get sentimental again.

It was better to focus on taking off his shoes. And he might as well take his socks off too.

Swinging up to sit against the headboard by Link, Rhett wiggled his toes happily.

''So.'' He began, taking a sip of his wine. Stupid small cup, he couldn't seem to find a good way to hold it.

''You know you didn't have to change?'' He asked.

Link was... normal Link now. He had pulled a t-shirt on and his glasses were the fingerprint-smudged dark ones he wore every day.

Rhett took another careful sip. 

''I want you to be comfortable.'' Rhett's voice was a bit tight, but so far, so good; no freak out.

Link smiled at him, a rather shaky too-wide thing.

Then he poked Rhett in the arm.

''I don't think me being comfortable is the most important tonight.'' He said.

Then he poked Rhett again. Hard.

''I think it's more important that _you -_ poke, OW!- are comfortable.''

Poke.

Rhett waved the jabby fingers away.

''Hey, stop that!'' He scolded.

''This is not about me, man.'' Rhett told Link.

Link drew back, sitting up straight and stubborn.

''Do you really think we could have talked it over while I was wearing a tank top?'' He challenged.

_Dark strip of lace over warm skin, just begging to be licked._

Rhett took a large gulp of wine, hoping his beard hid his pink face.

Link laughed, happy to be right and hopefully clueless to Rhett's rogue sexual thought.

''Didn't think so. But thanks, I appreciate the effort.'' Link shrugged.

''Besides, it _is_ about you.'' Blinding sincerty. Fuck.

''It has to be. Me. You. We're... you count. Okay?'' Links voice was too earnest and Rhett nodded, swallowing the rest of the wine in his dwarf cup.

He got up to pour himself a refill, noticing Link hadn't even touched his drink.

Rhett wasn't really surprised by this. 

The bed creaked when he settled back down.

Stupid hotel rooms.

\----

''You like to cross dress, do you?'' Rhett asked. And his voice did not even wobble.

Silence, too long and nerve-wracking, until Link grimaced, running a hand through his hair.

''Nope.'' he answered.

''Not like you're thinking anyway.'' he tacked on before Rhett could argue. ''You're thinking about drag queens. Or porn films.''

Rhett's face flamed again.

_Link, waiting for Rhett on a bed, silk baby-doll dress pooling like ink around his slim hips._

Rhett wanted to defend his honor, but what came out of his dry throat was more of a garbled croak.

_Link, twirling by moonlight in stilletos and nothing else._

Because yeah, Rhett's mind was in the gutter.

_Link, sitting primly with his long legs crossed, too much thigh exposed as his short school-girl skirt rode up._

Fuck.

The cup was cold in Rhett's hand, the cheap porcelain thick. It clacked against his teeth; he was tempted to press it to his hot forehead.

Fuck. 

Link continued, face open and beautifully innocent.

''So no, I don't like to cross dress.''

Rhett was such a perv.

Link finally took a small sip of his wine. His lips were shiny, and the way they wrapped around the rim of the cup...

Rhett bit at the inside of his cheek, trying to get a grip on his thoughts.

He pushed the images down. Wrong, so wrong. Rhett couldn't allow intruding sex fantasies to affect his friendship.

What was the problem with his brain? Or maybe the problem was his dick. Gosh.

''You're transgender.'' Rhett said.

And he hadn't meant to sound accusing, _did he sound accusing_?

Link pursed his lips, face inscrutable.

''Define what you mean by transgender.'' He asked.

Rhett tried holding the cup from above, long fingers spreading over the top in the way Link held his. And yes, much more stable; except it was no good, how was he supposed to drink like this? His freaking giant hand was in the way. The whole converstion was ridiculous, why was _Rhett_ the one being grilled?

''You're a dude who wants to be a woman.'' He blurted grumpily.

Link jerked and his eyebrows drew down menacingly and _shit_.

That was not what Rhett had wanted to say, god. How stooo-pid could he be?

''No! no! no!'' He rushed, flustered and anxious. ''I didn't mean that! It... that's not how I think you are. Not how trans people are! I know better! I understand transgender now. That was just word vomit of ninety's red-neck prejudice.''

He waved his wine cup around, trying to convey the importance of the point.

''I know better now. I just... '' 

_I can't stop thinking about pushing your bra strap down your shoulder._ He did not add.

Link huffed, settling.

''What I meant,'' Rhett picked his words carefully.

''What I meant was; you are a woman who was born in the wrong body.'' he finished in a thin thread.

And winced. Because shit, he wasn't used to saying stuff like that to, no _about,_ his best friend.

''Better definition.'' Link nodded, looking pensive. He crooked a leg, looping his arm absently around his knee and wine cup dangling dangerously crooked.

''Do you really think that about me?'' he asked. His eyes pierced too deep. Too knowing, God; Rhett squirmed.

''That I'm a woman in a man's body?'' He sounded genuinely interested in Rhett's opinion.

TRAP.

Rhett's brain screamed.

BEWARE.

TRAP.

Don't shove your foot in your mouth. Again.

Rhett sorted his thoughts out before answering, sweat prickling suddenly in his armpits.

No. Fuck no.

He didn't think Link was a woman in a man’s body; just saying it had made his skin crawl. Not because Rhett had an issue with the concept. They'd had a trans intern; a cool chick who had been quite helpful and candidly explained a lot of things.

He couldn't apply the notion to his best friend. It was not.. Link-ish. If Link had struggled for over thirty years - and from what Rhett gathered, the dysphoria associated with being trans was not a small dismissable thing but an all-encompassing bone-deep sense of pure _wrongness -_ surely Rhett would have had _some_ idea, right? Link was unpredictable sometimes, and he had his own particular mental hickups, but could he hide something this big?

Rhett took a large swallow of wine, buying time.

TRAP his alarms still sang.

''No.'' He finally admitted, staring at the film of purple-red creating loops up the inside of his mostly-empty cup as he swirled.

TRAP.

''Not that there's anything wrong with being transgender.'' Rhett blurted.

''Just... Uh, it doesn't seem right, ya know? Sayin’ you, _Link_ ; my best friend Link, are a woman in the wrong body is not... _You_.''

TRAPPED.

''I don't think it is. But what do I know??? Is it? '' Rhett finished helplessly. 

Link touched his arm, lightly. Waited until an unhappy Rhett looked him properly in the eyes.

''No.'' Link confirmed warmly. ''You're right...''

Rhett sighed in soft relief. He _did_ know Link well after all; they hadn't been living a lie.

''I don't feel like a woman.''

Link screwed up his mobile features.

''But I also don't feel strictly male.''

Electric blue eyed sincerity.

Trust.

Rhett stayed quiet, steadying; he held the eye contact, giving Link space to open up.

''I...'' Link chewed on his bottom lip. ''You know how... if your gender was a paint color? Men would, um, be blue and girls would be pink?''

Rhett nodded. Things clicked into place in his brain. He knew what Link was getting at; he could easily guess where this was going.

His shoulders drooped as tension left him.

''Yeah-yeah. You're purple.'' He declared confidently.

And yes, it actually made sense now.

Purple.

Link had always been comfortable when they played female characters. It was evident, not so much in the skits but during the _in-between_ times. When Link was dressed as a woman while someone else was having a turn at whatever game they were playing. There was an easy gracefulness in the way he held himself; a smoothness in the way he gestured. Rhett could play at being a woman. But a permeating unease never left him. His arms were too long and his legs didn't how to be positioned, and how the heck would a woman hold a buzzer anyway? Rhett had to _think_ about those things, unlike Link. He was a bit jealous actually, of how Link never seemed bothered, naturally impersonating whatever role he was given.

Rhett relaxed.

He understood.

He could deal with it.

''No.''

Link surprised Rhett. Again.

''No.'' he repeated firmly. ''I'm not purple, not like... on a scale from blue to pink.''

Rhett drained his cup, interested. Quirked an eyebrow that meant: _go on, talk to me._

''I know some people are that way.'' Link said. '' A mix of blue and pink. Purple. Genderfluid, changing day by day, sliding up and down the gender continuum.''

Blotchy spots of red were appearing on Link's cheeks and neck. Body betraying the emotion he repressed underneath his calm demeanor. Well... Calm-ish. Link was always flighty and excitable. He was _Link_ , after all.

''But for me, it doesn't feel like that.''

He rubbed at the back of his neck -another nervous giveaway- and Rhett ached to soothe him. He kept quiet instead and _listened._

''The whole scale thing, a continuum from one to the other... it feels right when I apply it to sexual orientation. In my gut, I know it's true?''

His eyes burned into Rhett's who nodded.

This was a subject they had already settled.

On the Kinsey scale, Rhett considered himself firmly hetero; he maintained his ground even if he knew that, statistically, it was improbable. Link was more nuanced, admitting that he leaned towards the middle of attraction. Potentially bi. But never attracted to Rhett, god no.

And that felt true to Rhett too. Link was... receptive. He vibed with certain people and Rhett imagined that if the right man wanted Link badly enough, well... Link would be affected.

It was a hypothetical situation anyway. They were both committed to exclusive marriages with their wives. Rhett was glad they’d been honest with each other though. All the rumors had been messing with their heads.

They were both comfortable with how things stood. Now they simply had to find their footing in regards to gender identity it seemed.

''You don't feel gender is on a scale.'' Rhett encouraged when Link stalled.

The television made a barely audible high-pitched hum in the silence. Unless it was the mini-fridge.

''No. Not MY gender identity.'' Link repeated.

''For me it's... Geez, it's so subjective isn't it?'' Link was growing more fidgety, which was _not good_.

''That's the probem.'' Links gestured spastically; this was going to end with wine on the bedspread, fuck. 

There was a catch in his too-rapid breathing that made Rhett's blood run cold. No.

No.

 _Not_ _good_.

Link was working himself into a panic attack, damn him.

''You can't see it. Gender identity, I mean. Not, um, genitals. Cause, duh, you can see genitals; you've seen mine before.'' His short laugh was too high and borderline unhinged.

''Gender identity. It's different. From body parts. Different for different people.'' Link's gaze was unfocused, staring blankly at the wall and showing too much eyeball white.

''I guess, not different for everyone. Not for most people. Not for you. But for me... Yes. It's different. I'm different.'' Link was practically vibrating with tension now, goddamnit. Rhett ground his teeth together.

_Not good, sooo not good._

''I'm fucked up Rhett, _shit_ , why can't I just be normal, I...''

And okay, enough of that tail-spin.

Rhett snapped.

''Hey, HEY!''

Rhett's voice was stern but Link didn't even respond.

''LINK. '' Rhett called, moving into Link's space to catch a hold of his friend’s foot with one hand while grabbing the wine cup with the other. It put them closer to each other than was socially acceptable, but Rhett hardly noticed.

''LINK. Look at me bro.'' He spoke right into his best friend's face, wondering if he needed to slap him.

And Link started to come back, thank fuck, eyes squinty and small behind his glasses.

Rhett squeezed the socked foot.

''It's okay. You're okay.''

The clean smell of Link's masculine deodorant invaded Rhett's head, from this close.

Link took a short shaky inhale. Good.

''We're okay.'' Rhett stressed, shifting back to his spot once he was sure Link was doing better. He ignored his dick that twitched at the hope of contact; the stupid organ was still worked up with wrong wrong thoughts from earlier.

''Tell me about **you**.'' Rhett urged.

''You're not... _not-normal_. Wait, no. Actually that's... "

He couldn't help himself then, green eyes sparkling. It was too easy to quip. "Sorry to break it to you dude, but you've always been a weirdo."

Link snorted inelegantly at the long-standing joke.

Rhett's voice gentled when he finished.

"You're _you,_ man. My Link. So freakin' calm down and tell me what gender identity means to you.''

Link stretched his arms widely as he did when waking up; then he made grabby hands for his wine cup until Rhett gave it back. He still didn't actually _drink_ the beverage though.

''Thanks, Rhett.''

''Makin' me sweat, man!'' He added, flapping a hand dramatically in front of his face. Rhett could _feel_ the unspoken gratitude. It gave him goosebumps.

''I." Link took a wooshing breath.

"To me, it feels like I have both gendered paint colors in me. Always. I have a bucket of blue. AND a bucket of pink.''

Link brought the cup to his lips, then lowered it again without drinking. It was driving Rhett _insane._ He was going to spill the thing, oh lord. Any minute now.

'' I, ah, I can paint blue. And I can do purple. Maybe even all pink, I suppose, though I've never tried it.''

Link's words were captivating.

Such a new perspective! Rhett had never thought of stuff like that before. 

Clearly _Link_ had done a lot of thinking though.

He explained more. "Whatever I do, it doesn't make the other gender go away. It's still there, inside me."

Link chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, flash of straight teeth.

"Even if I'm not expressing one gender or the other - and let's be honest here, it's the feminine side that I've been hiding- I'm still both. Male and Female.''

He picked at imaginary lint on his pajama pants.

''That's how I feel anyway. It... It has a name.''

Link was blushing shyly at Rhett, whose heart flopped over funnily inside his rib-cage.

''Non-binary.'' Link muttered into his own chest.

''Because, like, you're not on a binary; you aren't somewhere on a straight line from male to female. It's more... dimensional.'' he elaborated.

''Non-binary. That's what I am.''

Link twisted his fingers into odd shapes but his voice was gaining self-assurance.

Rhett took a minute to digest the revelation.

Link sat up straighter, peaking at Rhett through his eyelashes. 

''I'm non-binary.''

The statement resonated, joyful and vibrant.

He smiled.

Rhett grinned back, unable to help himself.

He was tempted to hug Link, but settled for squeezing his foot instead.

''Good for you.'' Rhett said, hoarsely. But sincerely.

Rhett's happiness for his best friend stretched into a ringing luminous moment.

He eventually cleared his throat.

''You've researched this. A lot.''

Link nodded, expression beautifully clear.

''Yep. I did. I looked up all the options- beep be-beep be-woop! research satellite antennas- and I found that non-binary is the gender definition that fits me best.''

He scratched at his stubble and FINALLY downed his wine, wincing at the bite of tanins afterwards.

Link didn't particularly love wine, not like Rhett did.

They drank together anyway. A beat passed again, in easy companiable silence.

''When I was reading all those posts on gender identity, I found a better term actually. There's a native-american traditional gender that fits even better.''

 _''Two Spirit_.''

Rhett shivered, penetrated by the reverent wonder in the way Link said it.

_Two spirit._

It so beautifully embodied what Link had just explained. It was... Link.

Link pushed his glasses up, shrugging. 

''I don't really feel like I should use the term though. It, uh, it feels too much like cultural appropriation. I'm not native, I don't have the right to...''

Link smiled softly.

''But just knowing is special. It makes my heart sing. It feels right, ya know?''

Rhett's heart was melting too.

''Anyway.''

Link balanced his too-small cup on the bedcovers. Rhett really hoped it was empty.

''I don't want to claim what isn't mine... So non-binary it is.'' 

Link couldn't seem to stop smiling. And that made Rhett beam back.

\---

''How long have you known?'' Rhett asked after a while. A family passed outside in the hallway; a kid's tantrum and her parent's angry whispers somewhat muffled among a stomping of many feet and the scraping of luggage. 

Link's gender identity had turned out to be... not such a big deal, finally.

Rhett understood.

It was monumental, yet... not.

Now that Rhett knew, he wondered why he had never really questionned this aspect of Link's personality before. The new generation had so many concepts floating around... it made him feel wretchedly out-dated.

After hearing Link explain himself, it seemed so _obvious_ now. 

''I, hmmm, I've been looking into it for maybe six months. I guess.'' Link shrugged.

Rhett turned a bug-eyed stare at his best friend. What the crap? Six months was a hecka long time to stew on something this huge, how come Rhett had never even have had a clue?

''Don't be like that.'' Link sounded annoyed.

''It's not like... like I was upset or distressed or anything. I didn't have an all-consuming identity crisis, man. It wasn't the only thing I thought about; in fact there were a lot of other more important things that bothered me. '' 

Rhett scoffed, getting up to pour them both more wine and depositing the mostly empty bottle on the nightstand with a terrifying clunk of glass on glass. It seemed to him that shaking up the truth embedded into your very bones, _I am man_ , was pretty terrifying. He stared into his cup; he was going to need several glasses water before bed to make sure he didn't get a hang-over. Good thing he was a big man.

Link wrinkled his nose.

''Really. I... I've always been this way. I've always felt it, that I was different. It hasn't changed recently or something.''

''I'm old dude.'' He laughed wryly. 

''I've lived all these years just a little... off... I'm used to it. I wasn't even trying to, I don't know, find myself or anything. Just figured that was how I was made. ''

''A weirdo.'' He winked.

''Then one evening, somehow...'' Link switched to dramatic announcer voice ''THE INTERNET GODS SPOKE TO MEEEEEE-eee.''

Rhett laughed. ''Yeah right, sure they did.''

Link shrugged again.

''You know how it is. I read an article, on a completely unrelated topic. But there was one sentence in there, a quote, that caught my attention. So I researched it. Read an article. Then another one. And a couple nights later, more websites.''

Rhett could imagine it; Link's thoughtful face illuminated blue by his ipad, curled up on the couch in the quiet of his sleeping house.

Link continued. ''I gave it time. Got a better idea of my thoughts and researched some more a few months later.''

Link shifted, stretching out comfortably on the bed. His knee almost touched Rhett's jean-clad one.

''It's like I've never... had the right words, before. And now I do.''

Link laced his hands behind his neck, scooting lower into the headboard. It made his pointy elbow come much to close to Rhett's face, and his cup was on the bouncy bed again. His FULL cup.

''I have words now, but it doesn't change anything else. I'm still ME.'' 

Links was so unsually serene it made Rhett feel all toasty inside.

''Mostly, it feels good to find a label that fits. Like I'm... sorted. I like things in order.''

Rhett grinned. Link did at that.

''And also, I like knowing I'm not alone. Not a freak.'' he mused. 

Rhett tried to stick his finger through the hole of the square handle of his cup. Maybe it was larger than it looked?

He got almost as far as the second knuckle. 

''Christie knows.'' Rhett stated, trying a different finger in the hole. Not much better.

''Yeah.'' Link answered. ''She wasn't surprised.''

And that was that.

''Do the kids...'' Rhett began.

''No.'' Link said firmly. ''I don't properly know what it means for myself.''

He rubbed his neck again, troubled.

''Now that I'm more self-aware, I can recognize when I'm not feeling right because I'm suppressing embodying a more feminine side of myself.''

He picked absently at his shoulder -at the strap underneath his t-shirt- and Rhett realized with a start he was still wearing the lacy tank top, just hidden. Fuuuck.

Rhett jerked, finger caught in the handle hole. He pretended the grunt he made was caused by annoyance at the design and not by the urge to rip Link's t-shirt off and put his mouth all over his best friend's chest. _What was wrong with him, Christ?_

Link was still speaking. ''I'm figuring it out, but I don't know how much I need to express this yet.''

''That's what you were doing tonight.'' Rhett confirmed.

''Yeah.'' Link nodded. ''I was trying to draw a few lines in the sand; trying to find what felt right.''

''Experimenting.'' Rhett supplied.

And they both tittered like twelve year olds at the inuendo in that.

Link pushed at his hair. His wedding band sparkled.

''It seemed like a good oppurtunity, with the hotel room and all. I was free to, um, tap into my femininity?''

Rhett stroked his chin.

''And... was the experience a success?'' He asked.

''You mean, except for the part where you scared the shit out of me and then had a panick attack?'' Link ribbed.

Which... That was... true. Rhett started laughing uncontrollably, and Link joined him in a sparkling release of tension.

''Yeah. Except for that part.'' Rhett said. Link had somehow wound up closer, leaning into Rhett's side. At least he was holding his wine cup properly again. Well, as properly as one could.

''It went fine.'' Link mused. His hair smelled nice.

''I think it went even better than I could have imagined, in the end. I feel _good_ , now that you know.''

And Rhett felt the truth of the statement all the way down to his toes.

''I didn't want to hide from you.'' Link mumbled.

''I didn' really lie. And for a long while I wasn't sure-sure of myself, and of course you didn't ever ask me if I was woman... I mean, I didn' know how to start the conversation soo... I'm glad now.''

Rhett put his arm around Link, hugging him tight sideways

''I... I'm glad too. ''

Touching like this, he could feel Link trembling minutely; the man was still more affected than he was letting on.

Rhett squeezed his best friend's broad shoulders for a second, working up the courage to say

''I love you, man'' he managed, blushing furiously. ''We've got this...''

Link sniffed hard, smushed tight against Rhett's side.

''I... thanks. Me too.''

He sat up, pushing at his glasses with a smirk though his mouth still wobbled.

''Do we need words to say _I love you_?'' He asked.

''Cause I heard there's a song about that. Two weird dudes, on the internetsss...''

He giggled and so did Rhett. It was the kind of moment where it was either laugh or cry. Rhett's lungs hurt.

They were okay.

Link was okay.

So was he.

''You sure about that?'' He asked. ''About that song?''

''Cause I heard it's a song by a dude and a non-binary person.''

Link choked, a scratchy knot of humor and relief and vulnerability clawing at his throat.

Such a fragile balance. Link wanted to keep things light.

''Shut up, man.'' he said, swatting at Rhett. They both pretended not to notice how wrecked his voice was.

Link leaned over to grab the remote from the side-table. And maybe swipe at his eyes quickly.

''Want see if there's a game on?''

He was still Link. Link, but changed.

Link.

Rhett.

Life.

Their relationship.

Everything.

Changed.

They were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Exposition done. What did you think of this unusual vision of gender identity? I know it's not exactly mainstream. Please please comment, I am feeling so insecure right now...
> 
> Also, I have a better grasp on where this story is heading. A series of vignettes, another deep conversation. And a (probably optional) sex scene.  
> I need a breather now while I do stuff. Like work. And sleep. And clean my house lol I had not anticipated how this story would just take over everything until I wrote it. This feels like a good space for a pause. Till next time! 
> 
> xxx
> 
> FrenchCaresse


	4. Pronouns and things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very aware of exactly how sensitive this subject, particularly the use of proper pronouns, is. I have tried not to be offensive even if Link's ultimate choice may not be what you feel is the best one. If you would like to share your thoughts, I would appreciate feedback.
> 
> This piece grew into a monster chapter that I have split in two for now. I almost posted in mutiple daily mini-chapters over a week instead. Do you prefer shorter regular updates? Or one massive not-so-frequent update?

''You should wear panties.'' Rhett blurted before he stopped himself, turning red in the face.

He hadn't really meant to say that. Not out loud anyway.

But he'd been fascinated by the thought for nearly two weeks; the idea of Link's penis encased in panties, push-back of firm flesh beneath silk and lace...

 _God_. 

Rhett couldn’t get over it.

And now, giddy and high on the pure buzz of a good crowd cheering for them, the words had tumbled out unfiltered.

Link remained silent for way too long, watching Rhett with narrowed eyes in the weirdly lit dimness of the cable-crossed backstage corridor. It was an in-between space, somehow feeling grandly theatrical with towering curtains stretching dusty into the shadows above, yet chaotically cramped with stacked rolling boxes of sound equipment.

It was not a place appropriate for intimate conversation, as the two technicians strolling by with a friendly ''Good show!'' proved.

Link waited until the pair had passed to lean into Rhett’s ear. 

''You want me to wear panties. Like, under my jeans?''

Link's voice was perfectly rumbly in his ear and Rhett turned a brighter shade of crimson.

''Well, yeah. Cause you know, _girl_ panties... and... non binary... so , um, I thought...'' He bumbled, mortified.

Link was still beautifully flushed from the show; his hair was disheveled just enough that it was driving Rhett freaking _crazy._

Link didn't seem to notice how fast Rhett's heart was racing.

He grimaced, shoving Rhett aside to head for the dressing room.

''It's not about sex.'' Link said firmly. ''It's about gender identity.''

 _Not about sex,_ Rhett told his dick. It pulsed, like it had been doing for the past two weeks whenever Rhett obsessed over Link in panties.

''So no, I won't be wearing panties under my pants.''

Rhett nodded, staring at the floor.

 _Not about sex._ He reminded his cock.

''Perv.'' Link called, sticking his tongue out like it was all a big joke.

Rhett's penis agreed.

\---

''Do you need new pronouns?'' Rhett asked, squinting into the annoying sun setting gloriously straight into his eyes.

Things were quieting in the office; Link was making himself tea. There was a distant clang in the mythical kitchen; someone washing dishes far away.

But here in the lounge, they were alone.

Safe.

Link slid open a drawer to search for a spoon.

''Been doing some research?'' he asked, swirling his drink with a clink.

''Yeah.'' Rhett answered truthfully.

He could see a kid on a skateboard in the parking lot, outlined against glorious gold as he wove in loopy waves then did a jump trick.

Rhett's eyes watered; _stupid_ , don't stare straight at the flaming ball disappearing behind the buildings across the street.

''I...'' Link ran a hand through his hair, plopping onto the couch by Rhett. He carefully deposited his hot mug onto the coffee-table, then winced and shielded his eyes, because... _sun._

Gorgeous fiery too bright sun. Rhett couldn't seem to look away, retina-scorched idiot that he was.

Link's face was pensive, his mouth a serious straight line.

He pushed his glasses up his nose. The sunset reflected in them; twin balls of yellow turned to Rhett.

''I know pronouns are a really important question.'' Link started. And for the first time since Link had come out to Rhett, he seemed hesitatant.

Vulnerable.

Rhett focused all of his quiet attention on his buddy.

Safe.

'' Do I need to be called by different pronouns?'' Link mused. '' I... I don't think so. I mean, it's a pivotal right for so many queer people...''

Link leaned over to grab his mythical mug of tea, realised how hot it was and immediately set it down.

''But for me, I just... I don't feel it matters all that much to me.''

Suddenly, he was sitting too straight and leaning right up into Rhett's space. When he spoke, Link sparked with jittery nervous energy. It made Rhett grind his teeth.

'' _He/_ _him_ , that's been me for so long... even if it doesn't always fit properly, ya know? ''

Rhett nodded.

Safe, he tried to emit.

''If I used _She/her_ , most of the time it wouldn't be any better.''

Link sighed loudly.

''There isn't a fucking pronoun that works for me. I guess I'm kinda used to it. And... I also know that for most non-binary, or people who consider themselves outside the gender spectrum entirely, having the proper pronouns means the world.''

He shrugged one shoulder, picking at the web of skin between his third and fourth fingers.

''It's pretty basic, right? Being acknowledged for who you identify as?''

Link's foot bounced. Rhett wanted to grab it.

He didn't.

_''They/them._ Those are gender-neutral pronouns people are starting to use.'' Link continued

The white ball of the molten sun was gone now, replaced by a diffuse glow and long lamp-post shadows slanting across the asphalt.

'' But for me, _They/Them_ doesn't feel right even if it's more gender affirming.''

''It feels worse actually. I'm old, man; to me _They_ sounds plural even if it's accepted as single.''

Link's words were coming too fast now, a rushed brain-dump of months of rumination. 

''I don't feel plural, Rhett, not at all. I told you before. It's not like I suddenly developped dissociative personality disorder or something!''

Link chewed on his thumbnail, then stopped, clenching his fists tight.

''I'm not... _They_. I'm not multiple me's so I'm not plural. Even if the pronoun _They_ is not technically plural, this Carolina boy can't get over the notion that it is. I'm not split into two between male and female; it's more fluid than that. More complicated, and at the same time NOT; I'm still just plain old me? '' Link's voice quavered and Rhett's heart hurt at the uncertainety.

Rhett really didn't like how upset Link was getting, but he knew it was one of those situations were the best thing to do was just let him get it all out. Link bottled shit up sometimes, and then, well, _this_ happened.

''So now it feels like the proper pronouns for someone non-binary fit even worse than being misgendered. And I... I respect those who want _they/them_ to designate them. Just, not me. God, I don't even know anymore, am I making any sense?''

Link asked. And okay, enough of that.

''Yes.'' Rhett said. He caught the flying spasmy hands and squeezed them tight for a second before letting go.

Link huffed, reaching for his mug and cupping it.

''Do you want to try the new pronouns? Like _Ze/Hir_?'' Rhett asked.

Link laughed out loud at that; too loudly, the sound echoed harsh in the empty room.

''You would call me that.'' He flatly announced, in a tone that meant the opposite.

''Yes.'' Rhett answered, surprised by how fervent he sounded.

''I mean.'' He amended ''I might forget, cause... you know, _old geezers,_ but I'd try. If it's what makes you comfortable.''

''Thanks, man.'' Link whispered, eyes soft around the edges. ''But no. I don't want to change pronouns.''

''It's been bugging me a lot, the whole pronoun question. In case you hadn't noticed...''

Rhett smoothed his mustache to hide his smile. ''I can tell.'' 

Link was calmer now, still trying to process. ''I feel as if, uh, if I don't change anything... if I stick with _Him_ cause it's familiar and it's always been how I was called... And also because there isn't any one pronoun that's right, so why change it up and lose myself? Then somehow that makes me less valid. Like I'm a fraud for saying I'm non-binary and then not living through the hardships of coming out.''

Link took a sip of tea through his teeth. Rhett could smell the _greenness_ in the steam.

''I feel I'm wimping out, somehow.'' Link continued. ''I get guilty cause I have it easy. I don't have the stress of trying to pass; I don't have to worry about getting mauled in the street. I can still be called him. I'm so priviledged. No-one is going yell insults at me just for existing.''

''Hey.'' Rhett bumped their shoulders together, making Link slosh tea onto his hand. _Fuck, he'd forgotten about the tea._

''From what I've read, this whole accepting you're non-binary journey is about you being comfortable with yourself. You don't have any justification to give; not to me, nor to anyone. You're not, like, ''not-queer-enough''. You do you. No judgment here. That's kinda the point, right?'' 

Link melted into Rhett's side with a smile so grateful it was almost as blinding as the sun earlier.

''You're overthinking. Don't invalidate your experience by comparing it to someone else's.'' Rhett concluded.

He felt Link shiver beside him. Damn.

"In the future, maybe, once you know what is right for you, if you want to officially be out and spread awareness... I think you could be a role model." Rhett suggested.

Link seemed miles away, blowing on his tea, but Rhett knew his best friend was listening.

"Gotta be prepared for the hate if you do, man. I think you need to really be secure in yourself before..."

Rhett flopped his hand around, shooing off invisible future haters.

Link smiled shyly.

''Anyway, the important thing'' Rhett finished, ''was to have the conversation. Right now, privately.''

Link's hair smelled really nice.

''Look at you!'' Link beamed. ''A regular LGBTQ+ activist!''

Rhett swatted at him, both embarassed and proud.

''Shut up. I'm trying.''

''I know.'' Link said softly.

''Thanks.''

The word vibrated with too much depth and it gave Rhett goosebumps.

''Taco Bell?'' Link asked dusting his thighs off.

Rhett followed him. Her. Them.

Link.

\----

Link left the clear glasses from Buddy System on his desk for a week.

Then he started wearing them, in crispy-bright tidbits of time.

It felt like a code.

Rhett thrilled whenever he spotted them.

He saw it as the sign of Link starting to express his new identity.

At first, Link only wore them late during the day, when the office was near deserted. And Rhett maybe started doing longer hours, just to give his best friend the opportunity to unwind.

Then, Link began wearing the glasses in casual settings, such as the rare times they went out for lunch. Rhett could _see_ the difference it made; the satisfaction Link held inside leaked out in the way he held his body. Stiffness went out of his shoulders; some of the birdlike flighty motions he was prone to do smoothed out.

It wasn't that the actual physical look of the glasses changed Link, not in the way wearing a skirt might. It was what they signified that made the difference.

When Link wore them, he was consciously admitting his need to be more feminine. And since Rhett was _in_ on his secret, it revived an intense feeling of closeness, of shared camaraderie that had faded with the decades. It revived their flame, as cliche as the old married couple analogy might be.

When Link finally wore the glasses to a business meeting, Rhett almost melted with warm pride. The conspirational smile shared over Stevie's head filled Rhett with enough joy to color the rest of his week-end.

Rhett's DICK, however, was NOT happy.

He still ached over the imaginary panties.

Rhett couldn't get the rogue thought out of his head. He wanted to push his sneaky hand down the gap where Link's jeans always sagged a bit if he forgot to wear a belt.

He dreamed of the little gasp Link would make; his fingers shook at the imagined luxury of warm muscle pressing back into his big palm. Most likely right before Link slapped Rhett away and yelled good about boundaries, but a man could dream.

God.

Link was NOT wearing panties.

This was NOT about sex, Rhett told himself.

Again.

Maybe if he repeated it often enough, he might stop having random boners around Link.

\---

They had that Canadian Youtuber as a guest on the show, the one who did nails.

Well, the one _who used to do nails_.

It was a good show. She had the same chaotic somewhat-awkward endearing energy Link did.

In More, they chatted almost completely unscripted while she did Link's nails. Meanwhile, Rhett was stuck with her sarcastic not-into-nails boyfriend slathering up to his knuckles in pink glitter.

They were an intelligent and grounded couple despite the crazy streak most internetainers shared. It made for fun and surpisingly deep conversation. 

Rhett had suffered many things that were worse than a bad manicure for the Mythical Beast's sake!

The Boyfriend especially shared insightful experience on wearing nail polish as a straight cis male. Rhett could _feel_ his words seeping into Link like dark water staining into dusty cracked earth.

Good.

Link declared that he liked the dark purple with tiny silver glitters. He liked it with so much boyish enthusiasm that when the cameras shut off, Simplynailogical did his other hand too.

The nail polish on Link _did_ turn out to be really pretty. It was shiny, and that shit was thicc; girl did not mess around.

Link happily wore it for three weeks before the edges chipped too badly.

A lovely pink blush continuously rode high on his cheekbones pretty much the whole time.

Rhett wanted to lick that flushed skin.

Rhett wanted those purple-tipped fingers wrapped around his cock.

He grimly ignored both urges.

\---

Link stole a bobby pin or two from wardrobe.

They lived in his pencil drawer, right by the protractor - and _why the heck did Link have a protractor in there anyway_?

Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, Link pinned his hair back and to the side like the first time Rhett had caught him.

His eyes were bright, daring Rhett to say something.

Rhett didn't.

He miserably tried to push through his work instead.

He failed to be productive.

Every

Single

Time.

Rhett just could NOT get his mind out of the gutter when Link was being more feminine.

He wanted to run his fingers through the mass of Link's thick hair. Wanted to yank him off balance and throw him against the couch, just to discover the glorious sounds Link would make.

Rhett wanted to kiss and bite and rub. He forgot to breathe, sometimes, with the intensity of the intrusive thoughts.

He was such shitty friend, god. He was happy Link had found himself, he truly was.

But the fantasies

Would

Not

Quit.

Rhett was not gay.

He did not want Link.

This was not about sex.

Only...

it was.

Link.

Rhett.

Life.

Their relationship.

Everything.

Changed.

Rhett wasn't so sure they were going to be okay now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rhett. Things will be going downhill for a bit now. And if you are here for the UST... let's just say the heat turns up next time, now that all the gender theory is established.  
> The next chapter (that was originally part of this chapter before it became too unwieldy) is mostly edited and should be up within the next week.
> 
> xxx
> 
> FrenchCaresse


	5. Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented. I truly appreciate your sharing.
> 
> Let's accompany Rhett in his downward spiral, shall we?

Rhett's personal journey of misery progressed with the passing months, as Link expressed himself more and more.

The nail polish turned into a semi-regular thing, once Link received the merch pack of Holo Taco. It was such a nice _canadian_ attention. Rhett vaguely wanted to strangle Cristine at the same time as hug her.

In the beginning, friends and crew members arched an eyebrow or commented at Link's painted nails. 

Link's ''But it's so ppurr-ty! Look at the shine!" seemed to explain the harmless quirk well enough and everyone got used to it.

Everyone, except for Rhett.

Rhett could NOT get used to Link's fingers with dark jewel tones on the nails.

Nail polish didn't make Link look like a girl, exactly. But it was... unsettling. Intriguing.

Rhett's balls were unsettled.

His cock was very much intrigued.

The splashes of color seemed to force Rhett to take notice of Link's hands. Link was expressive and graceful. His fingers were long and his hands were always, always moving. Add the notion that Link was flaunting his hidden gender identity in everyone’s face, and Rhett KNEW this... Suddenly every small mundane motion became forbidden and exciting and... sexual.

God, so sexual.

Rhett was caught off guard, again and again and fucking again, by the thrill that made his insides lurch.

Rhett preferred the matte unglittery polish on Link. It just seemed to _fit_ better, somehow.

When he slipped and mentionned his preference to Link, his best friend indulged him.

Of course.

_Unknowingly tortured Rhett,_ was more like it.

Rhett was going out of his damn mind.

Fuck it.

\---

They played Chunk for a special event, and Link wore eyeliner on and off for the week afterwards.

Rhett couldn't deal; Link in contacts with his blue eyes so large and pirate-y...

It was the pirate vibe he was digging, Rhett tried to convince himself.

It was NOT the emo-twinky vibe.

_Thank god_ Link apparently decided eyeliner was not a thing he wanted to wear on a regular basis. Rhett suspected it was the scratchy contacts that forced the decision, but he was not one to question small mercies.

\---

As Link slowly flowered into himself, Rhett slowly withered inside.

It was beautiful to watch Link grow, Rhett thought from the pits of lustful hell.

For most of their employees who didn't know the motivation behind Link's transformation, the man suddenly began to be... fashionable. Rhett thought Stevie was aware of the truth, probably, but he didn’t ask her. If she DIDN’T know and Rhett asked her, then he would be outing Link and that was just... not right. 

When they were filming GMM, Link stuck to the shirts and t-shirts that the ward-robe department picked. When they weren't filming... Link tried different styles. Weird shirts and pants that were too wide and flowy; clothing with lace or frills or patterns. Or in the case of one memorable jacket, all three.

He explored accessories. Tried bracelets and scarves and necklaces, talked about maybe getting his ears pierced. 

Some of his looks were... questionnable, but overall Link's newfound confidence greatly improved his style.

''Aren’t you worried that people will think you’re '' Rhett’s voice wavered ''gu-gay?'' 

Rhett felt it was a reasonable question. He’d been holding the words back for _weeks._

But today Link wore skin-tight black jeans, a purple t-shirt and a filmy lilac scarf printed with - was that llamas or birds?- in fine black silhouette... Add the deep blue galaxy nails and Link most definately did not look straight.

And he knew it, he had to! Didn’t he? Surely he did, Link was so clueless sometimes... Rhett had to ask.

Link blinked at Rhett from behind his dark frames.

''No.'' He said. His voice resonated with confidence; he didn't seem surprised by the question.

Now Rhett felt silly for asking it.

''No.'' Link affirmed. ''I'm not afraid -air quote- _people_ -air quote- will think I'm gay.''

''But...'' Rhett didn’t know how to argue without being offensive.

Link’s eyes were too sharp. Rhett cringed.

''You're saying that because I’m dressed in what you consider a stereotypical gay look?'' He said. And Rhett couldn't tell if it was an accusation or a normal question, shit.

''Yeah.'' was the only sulky possible answer Rhett could give.

Link scratched his biceps. Rhett stared at his own shoes. His laces weren't the same length and his bow was off to one side. 

''First off, you do know there isn’t a « gay uniform » right? That homosexual men range all the way from dainty to tough bear, right?''

Rhett nodded vigourously. Of course he knew this; he wasn’t stupid.

''I guess some people are still full of crappy prejudice, so the question is valid. '' Link shrugged. ''So... what? What happens if strangers think I'm gay?''

Rhett opened and closed his mouth.

''Listen, I know how I present. I know some people will immediately assume I'm homosexual based off of appearance. It's the only point of reference most folks have when it comes to seeing a man dressed more feminine. And to that I say... so what?''

Link really _did_ sound sincerely unbothered. Rhett struggled to integrate the information. Such a large part of him had been certain Link didn’t realize the impression he gave... 

''I mean, what do I care if some guy at the grocery store thinks I have a boyfriend?''

Rhett tried to process this answer that was so different from the one he’d been expecting.

''People are not informed of all the possibilities.'' Link shrugged. ''They see a guy with make-up, they automatically think _gay._ Which is kinda sad, and I hope that in the future things will change. If anything ever makes me come out publicly, it will be that; normalizing gender expression, whatever it means to you.''

Link fiddled with his scarf a bit, blue eyes like a summer sky.

''I’m not going to waste my time trying to explain the difference between gender identity and sexual orientation to the cashier at Walmart though.''

  
Rhett was still mute and gobsmacked. Link knew. He was okay with being considered gay. He was doing what felt best for him and he didn't give a shit about what people on the street thought.

Damn.

The courage... Rhett felt small.

''The important people, the ones whose opinions are important to me, know the truth. You. Stevie. My wife. It’s spreading among the crew. And that’s good.''

Ah. So Stevie DID know.

''I don’t care what strangers think.'' Link repeated.

''Besides.'' he added glibly. ''It’s not like people thinking I’m gay is an insult, is it? ''  
  


Rhett blushed bright red; he could feel his ears burning. The assumption had haunted pretty much their entire career.

« We're not living in the eighteen-hundreds, man. There is nothing wrong with being homosexual. So even if people assume I’m gay... it might not be _correct_ , but it’s not an insult. At least _I_ don't see it as one.''

And Rhett really couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he fist-bumped his buddy instead.

\---

Link might be okay with being perceived gayness, but Rhett...

Rhett wasn't, he was realizing.

It was easy to sincerely accept others. For example, Rhett truly was happy for Stevie and her girlfriend. He didn’t feel there was anything weird about two dudes being together, not after so many years in California.  
  


It was different when the thought applied to himself though. Unease stirred in him then, a need to defend himself; No, HE wasn't gay. It was perfectly fine for others to be, but not himself.

Rhett realized how hypocritical he sounded, even in his own head. Shit. He had some serious self-work to do.

Clearly, Link was miles ahead of him on accepting homosexuality. 

Plus, Rhett's... issue... was becoming frankly ridiculous. He still got unbearably aroused around Link.

He needed to do some exploring of his own.

\---

Out of pure desperation, Rhett switched his favorite porn-site to the gay version.

Even if he wasn't gay. _Probably not._

He needed to find out.

Desperately.

He needed to know how he reacted to emo twinks in eye-liner and nail polish that were not Link.

He needed to know what lurked on the other side. _The sinful side_ , his stupidly engrained religious beliefs supplied.

And THAT, that was purely demoralizing and infinitely annoying.

Rhett was no longer a Christian, he had rejected all of those principles. So to find residual moralizing evangelical crap inside his own mind was irritating as hell.

There was nothing wrong with being gay.

Or Christian, for that matter.

  
Rhett was neither of those things.

Rhett wasn't gay. He was just... curious.

\---

Angry with himself, Rhett clicked that button with more force than necessary.

Crap.

Oh crap.

Rhett ached for half an hour, hovering over thumbnails of emo twinks getting fucked in various positions.

He didn’t watch any of the videos, panicked into preserving his straight identity for just a while longer.

Because his dick... his dick didn't care about his sexuality crisis.

It very much wanted to watch emo twinks.

Oh god.

Rhett was forced to drink enough brandy to get sloshy and sleepy or he would certainly have jerked off to cute slim dudes getting it up the ass.

Damn Link and his exploring.

Rhett had been perfectly fine with status quo. Even though he'd apparently harbored some deeply internalized denial, he'd been happy.

And now...

Now he was leaking in his boxers because he refused to relieve himself to homosexual porn.

Rhett was fucked.

The next morning was a disaster, predictably.

Hungover and still irritatingly horny, Rhett got into a huge messy fight with his son.

Then he made himself apologize, because it was not the kid's fault Rhett was questionning everything. 

Rhett was the one who had left the decanter on the floor by the couch, even if Shep was the one who actually broke it.

Rhett's life was shattering into pointy shards just like his wife's heirloom crystal.

\---

The most important changes in Link were not his appearance. They were internal.

Rhett learned to read his best friend, at the same pace that _Link_ learned to read his own self.

Actually, it was more about learning to interpret clues that had always been in front of his face in a different way.

Before, Rhett had blamed ALL of the fidgeting Link did on anxiety. Everything from Link never being happy with his t-shirts to the way he seemed ready for flight on the edge of his seat, down to how he pursed his lips and stared too long.

As time passed, Rhett learned to determine when the cause of Link’s erratic gesturing was truly stress, and when it was caused by Link not embodying his gender identity.

It seemed so obvious now!

The way Link perched on the stool, with his long jean-clad legs crossed unnaturally for a man.

The way he flailed in bursts that were too graceful followed by carefully restrained stillness.

The way he tugged on his wedding band.

All the tells were in Link's non-verbal cues, from the posture of his hips to the tilt of his chin. Rhett had always been able to analyze his best friend; now he had new parameters by which to judge Link.

\---

It had been a crappy day.

After a meeting that had not gone particulary well, they had gotten clogged in traffic. A small fire had been extinguished in the workshop causing lengthy insurance paperwork. Link's wife was pissed at him because he had bailed on picking up the kids since he was caught in traffic. And they still needed to go over the script for the new clip before going home.

Rhett tried to breathe through his nose.

To top it off, Link’s body dysmorphia was hecka bad today.

Rhett could SEE how bothered Link was, baseball cap on crooked and knee jumping.

Link, however... Link didn't seem to have realized what the real issue was. He did that sometimes, reverted to blind disconnection from his body rather than acknowledge his discomfort.

He was rattling on in a tight, rushed voice. Shit.

Rhett knew how to make him feel better.

Link's voice dwindled as his tall friend loomed over him, too close.

Rhett popped the cap off a stunned Link’s head, then tugged off his dark glasses. Link blinked vulnerably, eyes small as the room melted into fogginess.

His mouth opened to say something, then shut soundlessly at the intensity Rhett radiated.

Rhett.

Rhett reached over Link. Too close _fuck._

He bent over and carefully pushed the clear glasses onto Link's nose.

Of course, he completely missed Link's left ear and the spectacles dangled crookedly.

Damn.

Link's face, lit with weird green tints by the screen of his computer, gave away no clue to his reaction.

Rhett fumbled with the branch of the glasses, pushing it in place correctly; then he smoothed the salt-and-pepper hair he had displaced.

So soft. 

Link was an alien-esque statue in the strange illumination that made his face seem flat and his chin look huge.

Rhett reached blindly down and swished the drawer open. His warm hand on Link’s shoulder grounded them both in the charged moment.

It was so quiet in the office that Rhett heard the muscles in Link’s throat move when he swallowed.

Rhett awkwardly carded Link's hair in the way he thought his friend placed it; to the side, pin at the temple.

Link shuddered once but _still_ did not speak.

Sooo intimate.

Insert the second pin a bit further down, a few inches above the ear;

Just

like

that.

There wasn't really any need to smooth the hair behind Link's ear all the way down to his nape, feeling the soft baby locks against the back of his fingers.

There was certainly no need to do it again, just to feel Link shiver.

Rhett pulled back, making a fist.

He bent down to look directly into Link's smoky-blue eyes.

''Better?'' Rhett asked and damn. His voice was a dead giveaway of how affected he was, timbre too deep and scratchy.

Link chewed on his lip, face twisting. He seemed at a loss for words.

Rhett backed away to his desk and nearly fell on his butt when the chair almost rolled out from under him.

'' Yeah.'' Link recovered, fitfully pushing the hair behind his ear to his liking. ''Thanks.''

Rhett grunted in response, trying not to cup his throbbing crotch. It wasn’t fair that Link sounded normal that fast, while Rhett's heartbeat boomed in his eardrums.

Rhett swiveled to face his own computer grumpily and pretended to work.

He couldn't.

  
Rhett could not pretend it wasn’t about sex anymore.

Not to himself anyway.

Rhett ACHED for sexual release with Link.

\---

Rhett refused to masturbate that night.

He just wouldn't.

He wasn't gay, he didn't want Link; his entire life was NOT built on a lie.

Desperation gave him the strength to ignore his pounding body.

Later, Jessie's sleeping length by his side helped Rhett keep his hands off his dick.

He was NOT going to jerk off to thoughts of Link, while his innocent wife lay in bed beside him.

\---

Three hot restless nights later, Rhett broke.

Damn it all to hell.

Apparently, when you were forty your stupid Dad-bod didn't even allow you the respectable escape of a wet dream.

Rhett tossed and turned and panted and woke up endlessly erect but apparently, he wasn't getting relief.

  
So at five in the morning, Rhett had a shameful wank that barely lasted a minute in the shower.

The pleasure was so intense after days of denial that it _literally_ brought him to his knees. He stayed that way for a long long time, kneeling on tile and taking great gasping breaths, watching the water ebb and swirl around the drain.

Rhett was at least partly gay.

Rhett was into Link.

Rhett was screwed.

Fuck.

Rhett needed to call his therapist.

He didn't. The revelation was too big, too raw; it was too _new_ to share. Rhett couldn't even think the words in his own head without dying on the inside. He felt incapable of saying them out loud, even to a professional he trusted would help him.

Rhett _knew_ that not making that appointment was a mistake

Rhett couldn't do it. He just couldn't. He could hardly admit his bisexuality to himself, much less dissect the implications with someone else.

So instead of doing the sensible thing, Rhett had a silent freak-out on the shower floor at five in the morning.

Then he made coffee and kissed his wife good morning.

  
Rhett was _sooo_ screwed.

\---

Days passed in a foggy blur of self-loathing.

Link remained a shining star, but every other aspect of Rhett's life was swallowed by blackness.

At first, he tried to maintain a happy facade.

Then, Rhett stopped caring enough to pretend.

Rhett was fucked up. He snapped at employees; he got into huge shouting matches with his teenage kids when they called him out on his attitude.

Rhett skipped the gym, because why bother, really?

He was rude to Stevie.

People around him grew concerned; they asked irritating well-meaning questions.

Rhett shook them off. 

Rhett was fucked.

His wife cried.

Rhett's frozen heart broke even more.

He did not answer her questions. Instead, he lay endlessly awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Rhett was a jerk.

Link did NOT ask questions.

But he looked thoughtful, speculative; Link saw too much. He knew Rhett almost as well as Rhett knew Link.

Before, their relationship had been one of shared equality. Now...

Rhett was a liar.

A creep.  
  


Rhett did not ask questions anymore. He knew.

Rhett was bi. No-one could ever know. Not after so many years of denying it.

His entire life was a joke.

Rhett began to avoid being with Link. He couldn’t stand to be near the man who had forced the wall inside his psyche to break down.

Rhett was so angry at Link for causing this mess that there were times he wanted to actually physically assault him. Just sitting at the desk by his side was torture.

Things grew frosty-cold between them.

Link was pissed off. And rightfully so, Rhett was acting like a dickwad.

  
Except since every move Link made felt designed to annoy and break Rhett, he didn't give a shit about playing nice.

Rhett's marriage was fucked.

Rhett's friendship was fucked.

Everything was a mess.

Because of Link.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find yourself struggling, don't be an idiot like Rhett in this story. Seek help.  
> Clearly, things have to come to a head soon. Another out-of-town trip should be a nice catalyst...
> 
> xxx
> 
> FrenchCaresse


	6. Walls, or lack thereof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do I introduce this chapter? Lust. Heartbreak. Rhett being an idiot. Link being saucy. 
> 
> This one's intense. Hang on tight!

They had an out-of-state show coming soon.

Rhett had been very meticulously ignoring that fact, conveniently losing himself in the grind of day-to-day.

Until, out of the blue it seemed, Stevie was giving them plane tickets and getting into the nitty gritty of their stay.

Argh.

Rhett's dread of those nights, _alone with Link,_ alternated between nauseating self-hate and nasty lashing out at everyone around him.

\---

Link allowed Rhett to stew in silence during the flight; a fragile almost-peaceful shroud spread over the remnants of their relationship.

Rhett _knew_ his former best-friend was upset though, because Link didn’t sleep. Quietly reading a book and staring blindly at the poofy cloudscape beyond the wing-tip was not normal plane-Link.

And yet, Rhett didn't initiate conversation. He didn't joke or try to alleviate the thick wedge of hurt and misunderstanding. He should have, but he didn't.

Just another brick in the forteress of fuck-ups Rhett was building.

\---

In the too-bright hotel elevator, Link asked ''Wanna come by my room and go over the songs?''

Oh. Link’s tone was carefully neutral, but it was threaded through with fragile hope and his eyes were soft and hurting.

_A fissure appeared in the foundation of anger holding Rhett together._

No.

It was a supremely Bad Idea.  
Being alone in a hotel room with Link would only create horrible temptation for Rhett.   
Nothing good could come of uselessly torturing himself.  
He should say no.

_The little crack spread; it was lonely and dark behind his walls._

''Yeah.'' Rhett heard himself answer.

Dammit.

Rhett was weak. He was a shit-hole who he couldn't even behave respectably and stay away.

Rhett would have hated himself more, if possible, but he was already over-saturated with disgust. There wasn’t room in his bloated too-ripe core for a drop more of revulsion.

Link held a shimmering mirage-promise of childhood solace Rhett couldn't resist.

  
—-

Maybe it would be fine.

  
Maybe Link wouldn’t even be wearing girl clothes.

Maybe Rhett’s libido would calm the fuck down.

\---

Rhett knew it wouldn't be fine; he knew it in the cross-hatched fabric of his very bones.

The intial fantasies of Link in women's clothing had seeped out of the serviceable box of ''Acceptable, because not gay.''

NOW Rhett knew that he wasn't straight.

So NOW the attraction was wildly rampant.

Rhett ached for Link, no matter what he looked like. Rhett wanted to touch Link when he was boyish and excited, pushing Rhett to do stupid things. He wanted to draw Link into his arms when he was quiet and withdrawn. Rhett noticed how Link’s lips were so kissable when he should have been focused on testing gross food combinations.

It didn’t matter what clothes Link wore anymore. Rhett couldn't blame the allure on nail-polish or the wide leather cuff Link had adopted.

Rhett

wanted 

Link.

All the fucking time.

It was exactly as Link had said half a year ago. Boy. Girl. A mix of both. It was Link, all of it.

Rhett wanted ALL of it.

He could **never** tell Link. Rhett had to protect his friend from... from himself. He'd always been the guardian, the strong one in their alliance. He was going to keep Link safe, even if it killed him.

\---

Rhett should not allow himself to be alone in a hotel room with the object of his crush.

The risk that he would break down and kiss his friend was too great to take.

Rhett would find a way.

He had to.

For Link.

\---

_The little crack in Rhett's wall spiderwebbed some more, jaggedly forced open under the pressure of too-much bottled-up emotion._

\---

''You okay with this, man?'' Link asked

It was a question, and there was concern motivating it; there was also a steel core of challenge Rhett instinctively recognized from too many teenaged dares.

Because, _of course_ , when Rhett entered the room like a man condemned, Link was wearing a girl's top with his joggers and bare feet. 

It wasn't even a very risqué girl top, at that. It was black and flowy; the neckline was very wide so that, on a girl, it would slide sexy down her shoulder.

Link, however, was not a girl. Not with his smooth preppy hair and his stubbled face, familiar dark frames not letting Rhett forget that this was his childhood best friend.

Boy.

Girl.

Link.

His shoulders were quite muscular so the fabric caught just above his biceps and swooped into a dangerous décolleté.

He looked... sporty, somehow. The combination of the loose almost-crop-top and the joggers...

Link looked like one of the yoga teachers at the gym.

Or Beyonce; Rhett was sure it was the kind of thing Queen B would wear for rehearsal.

He very nearly turned and walked out of the room.

Instead, he mustered a strangled ''Yes'' and sat, stiff and disjointed, on the too-small, too-straight-backed chair across the tiny table from Link.

Rhett hurt.   
  
Physically.

With how badly he wanted to touch Link.

With how badly he needed to tell Link what was wrong.

_Don't tell Link, don't touch Link._

Rhett made himself resist; he forced himself stop the internal shattering and hold his walls in place.

He wouldn't, _couldn't,_ give in.

Link could never know.

In the dark basements of Rhett's fortification, small stones atomized under the weight of not telling Link. The very mortar of secrecy holding Rhett together was eroding into sand, grain by grain. 

_Don't tell Link, don't touch Link._

  
The strain was too great; Rhett couldn't work on the show. Even with his lines on a sheet right in front of him, he messed up.

They were alone.

Together.

In a hotel room with a bed conveniently RIGHT THERE. 

The potential...

_Don't tell Link, don't touch Link._

Rhett flamed with so much desire he couldn't focus on stupid rhyming lyrics.

Rhett was over it all. He just wanted the hurt to stop.

_Don't tell Link, don't touch Link._

There was so much smooth skin tantalizing him in the scoop of that neckline...

Rhett bit the inside his cheek. Puffed a harsh breath.

No touching.

No sex.

This was Link.

'' Do you.. is it why you shave? The non-binary thing? Is it why you shave everywhere?''

Rhett asked to fill the annoyed silence afer he flubbed his lines, _again,_ staring at Link's chest.

Rhett was choking on thick lust and his voice showed it.

_Don't tell Link, don't touch Link._

'' I. '' Link blinked hard, taken aback.

He’d been loud and vocal about his shaving practices for years.

''I. '' Link stopped again.

Rhett was going to kiss him, oh lord.

'' I.... that's a really good question. It didn't start out like that, for sure. But now you’re making me wonder... ''

Don't tell Link, don't touch... Oh god, _touch. Need to, have to- can't._

''I, uh, I don't know. Maybe? Unconsciously? Even a couple years ago, it might have felt right to go bare not for cleanliness but fo-uh-oorrr... ''

Link’s explanation petered out when Rhett moved around the table and stood creepily close behind him.

_Touch._

_Link._

'' What are you.. '' Link started, trailing off breathlessly.

He stopped talking because Rhett’s shaky fingers dragged delicately along his collarbone.

''Rhe- '' another word, _evaporated_ , as Rhett skimmed the golden skin he ached to kiss.

Link froze, head bowed and strong hands neatly folded, pious prayer-pose on the tabletop.

Rhett grew bolder, kneeding the tense musculature between Link's shoulder and his neck.

_Touch._

_Link._

Rhett could _feel_ the tension held in the tight fibers there. He squeezed hard, elliciting a grunt.

 _More._ Touch. Link.

Rhett lost the battle with himself then. It was much too easy to slip into the moment, give in to how fucking RIGHT it felt to touch Link like this.

Just like that, between one heartbeat and the next, Rhett slipped to the other side. He went from friend to lover, luscious slide into seduction.

What could have, at first, maybe? be excused as a massage shifted into undeniably non-platonic caress. 

Link bit his lip, suspended breath and hot rush of blood.

Rhett's palm made full contact with hot skin, exploring- arousing- as he headed down toward Link's chest.

_Link._

Rhett's slow stroke did not go all the way to Link’s nipple; leisurely it wandered back-up up up. Rhett twisted his hand _just like that_ , up up up. The backs of his fingers glided over Link's bowed nape.

Shivers crinkled over Link's scalp, rippled from the contact.

Link’s brain, caught off-guard, shut off entirely.

Feel.

_Touch._

Completely disconnected from coherent thought, drowned by crystal-pure sensation.

_Rhett._

Rhett’s hand flipped over again, wide-spread fingers sliding into short sensitive hair. Link's brain shrieked back online, jarring realization that, oh crap...

Link _knew,_ with a jolt in the pit of his stomach; knew that Rhett was going to grab on and pull his hair right there at the back of his neck and THAT, that was just not...

''HEY!'' Link chastised sharply.

''DON'T! ''

Because Rhett knew Link too well; he knew all of Link’s good spots after so many years of too-close interactions and barely veiled homo-erotic subtext on the show.

''Don’t touch me like that. '' Link repeated, squirming away.

''Dude, don't mess with me.''

Rhett made a tortured sound Link had never heard before, yanking his hand away like he’d been burned.

'' Jerk.'' Link grumbled, scratching at the back of his own neck to erase the phantom sensation of Rhett teasing him.

Link’s naive annoyal pulverized into dread as he processed the twisted expression on Rhett’s shocked face. The bottom dropped out of Link's world, dizzy-too-fast.

Oh shit.

''Sorry man, I...uh, hah.... '' Rhett stuttered.

Pure panic won Rhett over, again, and he rushed from Link's room. Again.

  
Damn.

It wasn’t a joke, Link realized.

Damn.

It was much much worse.

Link laid his hot forehead on the cool wood of the table. 

Damn.

He waited for his galloping heart to slow.

\---

In the next room, Rhett paced as wide a circle as he could manage in the tight space, which was not nearly big enough to ease the need to flee.

Trapped, Rhett was trapped.

What was wrong with him? How could he have touched Link like that?

His stomach flipped.

The glorious smooth warmth of Link under his hand... god.

Rhett fumbled with his belt like the pathetic over-aroused creep he was.

Standing over the toilet in the beige hotel bathroom, Rhett jerked off fast and angry until he ejaculated with groaning animalistic sounds of vexation.

Goddamnit.

Shouldn't orgasm bring blissful peace, cupids trumpeting and rose-petals raining?

Instead the pleasure ripped from somewhere at his core, a hemorrhage of hurt no longer contained to his bleeding guilty heart.

Rhett felt disgusting. Dirty.

Washing his hands meticulously didn't help. Rhett ran his hands under still-cold water first, _mistake_ ; the stupid wrapping paper stuck in wet fingerprints to the too-tiny square of hotel soap and tore into shoggy shreds. In a fit of temper, Rhett threw the nondescript beige bar across the room.

It hit the bath wall with a diminutive pop and split in two with a waft of cheap floral perfume.

Jesus.

Rhett rinsed off and sat on the toilet with his head in his hands.

He felt like he should be crying, but he was dry inside.

—-

  
Rhett remained so blissfully freaked out he was a blessedly barren shell, his emotions having shut off entirely, until he heard Link knocking.

On his bathroom door.

Because of course, Link had the key to Rhett’s room, just like his heart.

''Come on man, gotta come out!'' Link announced.

And _oh_ , the innocent irony cut deep.

Rhett didn't answer.

''You can't stay in there forever! '' Link teased.

''Yeah. I can.'' Rhett answered.

''Make a video of it too, just watch me. '' He couldn't help kidding.

Link’s laugh was so, so _normal_ and reassuring that hot tears pricked Rhett's eyes. Great. NOW he was going to cry?

''You'll call it _Pouting in the bathroom cause my best-friend freaks me out,_ won't you?'' Link spoke through the door.

It was a joke on the surface, but the light-heartedness stood poised right at the edge of a terrifying escarpment of hurt.

And no, that wasn't... The problem wasn't Link, it was Rhett. He couldn’t let Link think that he was freaking out because he couldn't accept that his friend was gender-non-conforming.

Gosh, it was so far gone from that. It wasn't about Link anymore; it was all about Rhett.

So Rhett manned up and opened the bathroom door.

Link moved back, sitting on the foot of the bed to give Rhett space. He had changed into a t-shirt, Rhett noticed.

''No.'' Rhett said, his voice scratchy.

''I'ma call it _being a wuss and avoiding my best friend_.''

He sniffed.

''Or maybe I'll call it _hiding in the bathroom to have a sexual identity crisis._ '' 

The words sank into the pit that had been their friendship.

Link swallowed. His voice was gentle and purposely light when he answered

''I thought you were s'posed to hide in the closet for that?''

Rhett went weak-kneed with relief. For a blistering second, they made eye-contact that ballooned into shared chuckles.

''I...'' Link chewed on the inside of his cheek. Processing.

''It's okay with me, you know? However you are. Straight. Bi. Gay.''

Rhett' eyes burned. 

He blinked. 

''Kay.'' he croaked, refusing to look at Link.

Hunched in on himself, Rhett made himself say the words that needed to be admitted.

''It's wrong.'' Damn, Rhett’s voice was shot.

''No. No. Not...'' he added, raising a hand as Link opened his mouth to argue, thick eyebrows taking that stubborn slant.

''Not _wanting a man._ '' Rhett shuddered. There was an odd constriction in his chest when he forced himself to say out loud what he was barely able to admit inside his own head.

''Even if I have some work to do to accept THAT. ''

Rhett scrubbed a hand over his hot face. 

''Wanting _you_.'' Rhett admitted. ''That's bad. Bad, bad, BAD.''

Deathly silence answered. Rhett didn't dare look up.

''We've got wives, families. We're best friends. We're business partners. We're... everything.''

Link shifted on the bed, Rhett heard the cover rustle. He was too chicken to look directly.

''I don't want to fuck this up. Fuck us up.'' He blurted. ''I just... want this nightmare to stop. Please.''

Rhett choked, trying to clear the knot in his larynx.

''I don't want to ... desire...'' 

Rhett's voice failed again, so he could hardly push out the word. ''You.'' around the sobs piled up right at the top of his throat.

Rhett couldn't look at Link, _he could never ever look at Link again._ The room was fuzzy through the unshed tears that burned burned burned.

''I'm not a kid, I can keep it in my pants.'' Rhett continued angrily.

_Dizzy,_ god, he was going to faint. Rhett sat down abruptly; clumsy grunting fold of long limbs. The wall by the bathroom door was strong against his back; the cold seeped through his shirt.

It helped; a point of reference to counter-balance his wooziness enough to finish exposing the truth.

''I thought I could do it. That I could hide it from you. That I could keep my hands off. But.''

Rhett squeezed his eyes shut, beaten by the crashing wave of shame. A hot track ran down his left cheek and tickled into his beard.

''I can't.'' Rhett admitted his defeat with acid corrosiveness. Rhett had never been able to graciously admit he'd lost; he always went down screeching and fighting, even as a kid.

Rhett breathed for a minute, chest lurching as he collected himself.

Link was silent; Rhett saw from the corner of his eye that Link was touching his face.

Oh god, he was making Link cry.

''I've tried.'' Rhett picked fitfully at the dubious carpet with his fingers, coarse fibers scritch-scritching under his nails.

''I tried so hard to ignore it, to make it go away. The attraction.''

  
Rhett pushed his hair up, making it stand on end. Maybe he should let it grow out.

''I can't. I'm sorry.'' The waver of held-back tears was back in his voice.

A bitten off ''Hah.'' escaped Link, miles away across infinite kaki carpet, on the island of the bed. 

Rhett didn’t look, _couldn’t_ look; he couldn't deal with Link crying because of him.

''Seeing you... more confident. Exploring. It... changed me.'' Rhett hugged his arms tight around his torso. It did absolutely nothing to help the vaccuum of pain inside.

''I don’t know anything anymore. Who I am. How long I’ve been this way. How it’s fucking possible I didn’t realize it before... ''

Bitterness like bile.

''But.''

Rhett felt all soft and wobbly, stripped of his armor. Like there was nothing holding him together, nothing holding him up anymore now that the denial was gone. His anger melted into a sludge of deflated regret.

''The one thing I’m sure of is that I don’t want to lose you. Lose us. That’s...''

The words petered out. Rhett was done.

''I won't let that happen.''

The words hung in the air. It was all over.

Rhett was done.

Broken.

\---

Link was silent for a long time.

Long enough that eventually, Rhett peaked at him.

When their gazes crossed, blue and green, Link IGNITED.

''You... YOU ASSHOLE!'' He shouted, much too loud for hotel-room levels.

''FUCK YOU RHETT.''

He was so angry he was shaking visibly.

Rhett cringed at the yelling, and also at the words.

Shit, he had sorta kinda maybe expected this, but at the same time... not.

A large part of him unconsciously expected Link to understand, to have his back as usual.

Link took a snorty angry inhale, trying to calm himself.

When he spoke, the ear-cringing volume was gone, replaced by seething fury.

''Is that why you've been such a dick for the last months?''

Rhett nodded stupidly.

It was over. 

Everything.

Rhett.

Link.

Their friendship.

Their life.

Everything.

Link rose jerkily to stand with his back to Rhett, facing out the window.

Rhett stayed on the floor, demolished.

Finally, Link pivoted.

Stomped his way to tower over his former best-friend.

He seemed calmer, but his eyes crackled with repressed anger. Rhett hugged his knees to his chest. The floor was really hard under his bony ass.

''I'm glad you told me.'' Link said, and _that_ at least was true, Rhett recognized the warmth underlying that statement.

''But you CAN'T be like that.'' Link's voice started to rise again and he caught himself.

Held onto frayed emotions; forced himself to swallow his temper. It looked like it hurt him to do so.

''You can't act all... all fucking martyr-like. _Ooooh, poor troubled Rhett._ FUCK YOU man.''

Link flung the insults, dripping with sarcasm, like individual barbs that clung to Rhett's exposed insides and clawed deeper.

''It's not just about you, Rhett.''

Link's face was all screwed up. Rhett hurt.

''You told me so yourself. It's about me too.''

Rhett nodded, tongue too dry to answer.

''So get your head out of your damn ass!! You're not some... grand knight, valiantly bearing his struggles. I'm not a... a... languishing innocent princess.''

Links words oozed so much venom it was a wonder the paint wasn't peeling right off the walls.

''Don't... don't do that Rhett.'' Link sank onto the bed again, quieting.

''Don't lock me... Don't lock _Jessie_... out of handling this.''

Rhett scritched -scritched at the rug again. Mortified. 

''That's just...'' Link looked old, tired.

''Don't.'' he finished

\---

''Okay.'' Rhett managed after a shimmery silence, voice still mangled with the lump of his emotions.

''I'm.. I'm sorry. That was a jerk way to act. I'm sorry.''

Link smiled at him, small tremulous connection.

''Who am I kidding.'' Link's voice was bitter. ''I could have pushed you before. I have to own up to my responsabilites too.''

Rhett wanted to hug him. Not sexually. For reassurance.

''I sorta... knew... I guess. '' Link admitted.

''I know you, Rhett. I thought, maybe... when you started acting weird... I told myself I was imagining things.'' 

Rhett's eyes filled with treacherous tears again.

''At least now that it's clear, I can help.'' Link mused wistfully. ''Like, not wear stuff that will... um... titillate you.''

That was... 

''But I don't want you to do that!'' Rhett's cry could almost be qualified as a wail. God, when had he become so dramatic? 

''It's not fair to you.'' He continued in more measured tones. ''I just want to stop being a sicko and for this ... lusting... to stop.''

Link leaned forward to examine him. Rhett squirmed.

''Is it? Going to stop? Do you think it'll pass?'' Link probed.

Rhett had never felt so defeated then as he tonelessly admitted ''No. I, uh, I hope it does. But so far...''

Link nodded. He'd already known the answer, he just wanted to make Rhett say it.

''But so far,'' Link repeated. ''You were trying to face it alone and also keep me from knowing. And that... that can't work. It's just like regular attraction with girls. You've been married twenty years man, you know how this works!''

Link's eyes were too bright, dancing with remembered conversations of early-marriage struggles. Rhett bit his lip and nodded silently.

''Burying our heads in the sand won't help. Now that I know, we're in this together. We have to find out where our boundaries stand, so we can manage it. Faking it doesn't exist isn't gonna help nothing.''

And that was just gramatically wrong. They both knew it, but Link only stood, grunting in familiar Dad noises.

His hand reached out and yanked Rhett to his feet, right into a startled hug. Rhett resisted at first, held himself ram-rod straight and unsresponsive until Links familiar, friendly warmth forced Rhett to melt into the embrace. 

It was okay.

Fortified, Link stepped away.

''We're gonna get this right...'' he said, still a tad shaky. ''We're a team. We'll figure it out.'' 

''But we need time. And talks. And also talks with our wives.''

_Oh God, was Link suggesting what Rhett thought he was?_

''So... want to try the crappy hotel restaurant?'' Link asked.

''You mean the romantic overpriced chic hotel restaurant?'' Rhett corrected.

''Yeah.'' Link smiled. ''Date night. On me.''

''Fuck you.'' Rhett answered.

Then walked head-first into the door jamb because Link called.

''I don't fuck on the first date, 'm not that easy man.'' 

Oh god.

Dumbass.

Link.

Rhett.

Life.

Their relationship.

Everything.

Changing.

They were going to be okay.

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much to every one who commented, I treasure your opinions.  
> There will be a longer wait before the last parts of this story. Because, life.
> 
> xxx
> 
> FrenchCaresse


	7. Coming out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the readers who very kindly coaxed me out of writer's block. This story has been a challenge, it just does NOT want to go the happy fluffy gay route I wanted. I am the type of writer who usually flies with the story quite a bit, but I always have a general plan for the plot. One that these characters won't follow, apparently. But at least now I know how the story is heading to it's end, for real. 
> 
> Enjoy a short interlude before the boys have to return to California.

''We need a plan, man. How're you gonna tell her?''

Link asked.

Again.

Link was being annoying.

So.

Annoying.

He'd been positively vibrating in his seat since the beginning of the flight back to California, and incessantly bugging Rhett.

It felt... good.

Familiar.

Being annoyed at Link was normal. Safe.

Rhett really savored normal, after losing his grip on it for the last months.

Except.

The nagging was annoying.

Link was annoying.

So.

Annoying.

Rhett grunted and evaded answering. Again. He didn't respond to Link because he truly did _not_ know how to answer.

How do you tell your wife you aren't straight, Oh and by the way, you want to fuck your best friend of thirty years?

You didn't.

So Rhett didn't know where to start, understandably.

And Link kept pushing and pushing and ARGH.

So annoying.

Eventually, Rhett's growled ''I'll just play it by ear man, shut up!'' seemed to convince Link to just fucking let it go.

Unless his capitulation was caused by the murderous glint in Rhett's eyes.

God.

Rhett pointedly stuck his earphones in and thumbed to his audiobook.

Link looked at him sideways, pretending to repent, but his eyes twinkled as flipped open his laptop and his lips curved in a wide smile.

He was being annoying on purpose.

He was... being Rhett's Link.

Things were good between them.

Better.

\---

Rhett tried to be satisfied with their current situation.

Rhett and Link were good.

They had survived Rhett's coming out and subsequent break-down.

And it was true.

Rhett and Link were back; back to talking. Back to laughing. Back to being annoyed.

Only... now their friendship was missing a chunk of it's former self.

It felt like Rhett could hold their connection in his cupped jands; candy-red shell of their relationship, appearing just like before at first glance,until you noticed the weird hole scooped out of it's middle.

They were careful.

The normalcy was forced.

They were being so careful in their interactions, both of them.

Needing, _needing_ not to mess up this fragile closeness.

Oh god, Rhett couldn't bear to lose Link.

Their reconnection was spun-glass beautiful. 

Link hardly dared breathe, lest he burst the bubble.

Rhett and Link were so _so_ very careful now; careful of the other.

Wary of feelings not fully settled.

So very very prudent not to push too far.

Uncertain. 

Their renewed friendship was shaky, plagued by a...

A... carefulness... that hadn't been there before.

A bridge of sticks and spiderweb, over the looming chasm of - _maybe, if they weren't careful enough_ \- losing their marriages, their families.

Losing everything.

Except each other.

Oh God.

One misstep, one single loss of control...

No.

They had this; they could be careful enough to maintain status quo.

Even as he shot Rhett a little connected sideways glance that warmed Rhett's frozen wasteland of affection, Link was doing it unthinkingly.

Being careful.

Link was tight and hunched up in his seat, so very _very_ carefully not touching.

Quite a feat, actually, when you were cramming two dudes over six feet tall into airplane seats meant for dwarves.

Link's smile was luminous and his expression clear, but the... ease... was gone.

_So very very careful._

Rhett shoved the dull longing for the relaxed, boundary-free spontaneity of _before_ somewhere deep, where he could pretend it didn't exist.

Rhett and Link were good.

It was enough.

They could do this; they HAD done it.

Yesterday, after the show, they had stayed away from temptation.

They had found a fragile balance and preserved the sanctity of their marriages.

It would be enough.

Yesterday, it almost hadn't been.

Enough.

And this morning, it was. Almost. Enough.

Whatever might have transpired for each of them, alone in their rooms that night, was unspoken.

Cheerios and orange juice had cured any leftover longing.

They were best friends.

\---

The show had been brilliant, like always. The rush, the lights, the specatators...

They didn't do enough of them to be jaded and tired; every show was a glorious shiny moment, set apart from their everyday routine.

Keyed up and jittery, they'd lingered back stage with the crew until they were clearly just getting in the way.

These people had a right to get their job done and rest.

The taxi ride back to the hotel was jaggedly silent. It...ached... with the _uncertainety_ wedged between them, like a shard under a fingernail.

There was a line between them now.

A boundary they needed to respect.

Except it was too new, this overstep into sexual attraction and they were both awkward and stepping on eggshells because they didn't know where the fucking line was, exactly.

How far was too far? 

Rhett had been planning to hang out at the hotel bar. Even if Link was all the more attractive for his excitement, Rhett was hardly going to maul his friend in a public space.

Except.

The hotel bar was closed when they got there, shit.

Rhett didn't know what to do anymore.

He didn't dare invite Link back to his room.

It was too dangerous.

Rhett didn't know how he'd react; last time had proved how unpredicatable he was.

How weak.

Disgust with himself rose like acid in his throat; Rhett swallowed down the familiar taste.

They had to be careful.

Their wives, their kids, their everything.

Rhett wouldn't lose it all because of fucking hormones.

Except, right then, it was hard to remember everything else.

In the electric moment, riding the high of performing, Rhett needed Link.

He needed friendly contact, goofing off and silly jokes; he just wanted to chill with his best friend.

Rhett wouldn't touch Link, surely he could keep his hands off?

Right?

Could they take the risk?

Rhett didn't dare, and neither did Link.

There was an off-kilter suspended moment of staring at each other, exposed in the carpeted hallway, and oh god, Rhett wanted to kiss Link again. Badly.

Link blinked at him.

Silent messages flew between them in the awkward cringey pause but they were on different wave-lengths and Rhett couldn't decipher anything.

Jessie.

Christy.

No.

They retreated to their seperate rooms without a word; Link was clumsy and he swiped the card too fast, then seemingly too slow while Rhett shook with silent giggles, keeping his own door open with a foot.

Link stuck his tongue out and Rhett winked and then their doors shut.

Alone.

It was destabilizing.

Rhett was still out of sorts, and he didn't know how to fix it by himself.

He couldn't seem to shrink back into his own skin. Rhett always felt like he somehow GREW during the live shows, looming out of himself. It was like his personnality expanded, like he got _bigger_ for the audience. Shows made him MORE: louder, funnier. More sarcastic, more prone to exaggerated facial expressions.

More in tune with his partner. Link.

So _after,_ dumped back into reality, all alone in his hotel room, Rhett couldn't find his center.

It was the downtime with Link that let him go back to being normal Rhett usually.

Without his best friend, Rhett was all... unbalanced.

He felt like a sad blow-up figurine, half filled. Deflated, but not enough, with parts still huge and deformed; not quite stuffed back into the box he'd extended from.

Rhett paced.

It didn't help.

He opened the tiny stupid window; it only leaned in about thirty degrees. The cranky hum of motors on the hotel-kitchen roof filled his space, but not a single draft of air cooled his face.

Rhett cursed and fought the stiff handle to close the thing.

God.

Rhett turned the TV on, but the noise was like a cheese-grater to his exposed nerves.

He was still unsatisfied, itchy; prerecorded laughter and high-pitched sitcom banter just made it worse.

Rhett moodily turned the screen off; he watched the remote bounce on the foot of the bed and thud to the floor.

It didn't help.

Rhett needed... Link.

Rhett needed his buddy; he just wanted to talk a bit.

He couldn't. They couldn't.

Link was banished, wouldn't _couldn't_ come over. Because of Rhett.

Rhett was a boat, wrenched back at the end of his anchor rope, battered by dark choppy waves.

Rhett was ridiculous.

Rhett called his wife; he left a guilty message when he realized it was three in the morning over there. Fuck.

Rhett tugged at his hair, small sparks of sensation.

That helped. A bit.

Rhett ran the shower, looking at his wide eyes in the mirror until steam fogged up his reflexion.

He was too hot, sweaty; his armpits were stinky and gross.

Rhett turned the shower off without getting in and walked back to the prison of his room.

God damn it.

This was ridiculous.

Rhett texted Link.

A short sarcastic greeting.

Link didn't answer.

Rhett texted him again, a longer message. 

Link was ignoring him.

Rhett couldn't stop himself from sending a rapid-fire string of texts then, wincing at the worried needy undertone Link would recognize beneath the casual messages.

Gosh he was pathetic.

Rhett sat on the edge of his bed, jiggling his knee and swishing through channels on the television with the sound off.

Nothing helped.

He nearly jumped out of his pants when the phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call.

''Hey!''

Link's face was red and his hair stuck to his forehead with... sweat?

''S'up?'' Link asked cheerfully, taking a long swig from a water bottle.

Rhett's dick twitched.

''Can't sleep.'' Rhett grumbled.

Link smiled.

''Yeah man, me too. Great crowd. Too much energy, gosh I can never...'' Link wiped at his forehead, pushing the hair sideways and towards his hairline.

''I had to go work out; try to burn some gas, Dude.''

And ah, that was why he hadn't answered.

Rhett really shouldn't be going weak all over with relief at the simple explanation.

He was ridiculous.

Link wasn't mad at him.

Rhett leaned sideways, propping himself on an arm and tucking his socked feet up onto the bed.

Link wasn't mad.

Rhett smiled back; he tried to, anyway. His face felt stiff

_Longing._

''That's... smart. Working out. I should have thought of that.''

_Empty, awkward._

Link pushed his glasses up, squinting at the screen.

_Rhett wanted to invite him to his bedroom._

He didn't.

There was tension in Link's smile. _Anticipation_. He wanted to invite Rhett over too.

He didn't.

The silence grew. Expectant.

_They were both thinking the same thing, both refusing to give in._

It felt wrong; it was necessary.

Rhett scratched at his beard.

''I think I'll try some ... yoga.'' He said instead of _wanna come over._

Link nodded too enthusiastically, making his hair floof around in a way that should be illegal.

Rhett clenched his fist.

_Empty._

''Good call.'' Link approved.

Hope hung in the air. Fragile.

Careful.

Both of them waiting for the other's cues. Was it safe to be together? 

Link swiped at his forehead again.

Rhett tried not to think about that heated skin under his lips.

No.

It was NOT safe to be together. Not alone, worked up like this. 

Link nodded.

Oblivious. _Or not._

''Gonna shower. Enjoy your yoga.'' 

''Yeah.'' Rhett smiled.

''Catchya in the morning.'' Link said

Rhett nodded. He stared at his phone.

God, what were they, twelve year olds; incapable of hanging up and saying goodbye?

''Breakfast at 6h30.'' He reminded gruffly to fill the awkward silence, stretching the connection for just a few seconds more.

Link nodded.

It was okay.

They were okay.

Careful.

Link's face grew big, too close to the camera. For a second, it remained frozen on the screen before Rhett's phone went black.

_Empty, hollow._

_Alone._

Rhett's dick was rather hard, he realized. It was slanting sticky towards his thigh in his too-tight pants.

Rhett gulped, blushing.

It was fine.

He was fine.

He was alone. He hadn't cheated on his wife.

His mind flashed to Link swallowing from that bottle again.

The things Link could do with his mouth...

Suddenly, all the nervous jittery energy racing through his body consolidated into a pounding ball in his pelvis.

Rhett took a deep inhale, breathing through the spike of lust.

No.

Wrong.

But...

No. It wasn't.

It was fine.

Rhett was fine.

Rhett was alone.

His desire was not wrong, so long as he didn't act on it. 

Masturbating to homosexual fantasies was threading the line, maybe, but given how few truly private opportunities he had these days...

He couldn't resist.

Rhett unfolded from the bed, decided.

He closed the unwieldy drapes; whoever thought a flimsy plastic wand held on by a wobbly hook was the best solution for closing the floor-length curtains was probably the same person who had designed the cups in that other hotel. 

Rhett took his shower, finally, hypersensitive and goosebumpy; he very deliberately did not touch his cock, not yet. He might have spent way too long soaping up his belly, _so close to where he needed to stroke_ , but he resisted a quick cum in the shower.

No.

Rhett was going to do this right; he was going to take his time. Indulge.

His dick flexed hard at the rough scrape of white towel. Rhett ignored it.

Rhett brushed his teeth, boxers poking out obscenely.

Gosh.

He wiggled his hips, just for the fun of watching the cartoony tent waggle side to side.

Really. Rhett was ridiculous.

_Alone._

Horny, so unbearably horny all of a sudden.

Alarm set for tomorrow.

Laptop. Plugged in.

Rhett hesitated, standing by the bed for a minute; trying to convince himself that he could wait long enough to actually do a short yoga session.

Rhett's willpower wasn't strong enough, he determined, sliding long fuzzy blond legs under the cool sheets and piling pillows to prop himself up.

Rhett pressed a hand to his sparsely haired chest, feeling how fast his heart tripped.

Gosh.

His fingers shook as he opened the browser.

Rhett settled in for a nice long... yoga... session.

Alone.

No guilt.

Rhett toyed with himself until he was flushed and sweaty, groaning like a man dying.

Then Rhett stroked hard and fast, pulling his hand off at the last second while his cock clenched and his balls hurt.

And THEN Rhett tortured himself, wheezing, daring to touch a finger to his asshole and nearly cumming just from the forbidden thought of... of Link...

Rhett couldn't stop jerking after that; he lasted as long as he could, which wasn't long at all, until he was absolutely _gloriously_ incapable of holding back the spasms of release any longer.

Alone.

Boneless.

His wife, Link. No-one knew.

He was okay.

Rhett's last thought as he drifted to sleep, finally, was a question.

It almost woke him up.

Rhett wondered if Link had jerked off in his shower.

Fuzzy and heading for dreamland, Rhett made himself let go of the thought. 

Link was his friend.

It was enough.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a warning that I will also place before the next chapter. Unexpected het sex. I don't usually write male/female interactions, I like making pretty boys play. But yeah.  
> Rhett decided he was having none of my bi-erasure. He clearly stated he isn't gay, and he wants to do his wife and I can't work around it or the story will stall.
> 
> I completely understand if that is not your thing, heck it isn't mine usually! I am working on a making the actual sex part skippable, and will update the tags accordingly.  
> *sigh*


	8. Coming out, the sequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seasons greetings to everyone! 
> 
> Rhett is still in a disjointed bad place at the start of this chapter, but I promise we are almost through the angst! Yeah!
> 
> Also, as previously warned, Rhett is not gay in this story. Regardless of how the actual man is, this fictional character is bisexual. This chapter features explicit sexual content between Rhett and his wife. It is skippable by moving to the next starry line.

**Yet another hotel room, one week later.**

''Jessie...''

Rhett's voice gave out.

He'd convinced his wife to go on a week-end escape, no kids; just the two of them.

 _''To reconnect.''_ he'd said.

Only... his wife wasn't stupid. 

Rhett couldn't fucking _breathe_ during the hour-long drive. At one point, he'd wrapped their fingers tightly together, heart-broken. Oh god, he could tell she thought he was breaking up with her.

He wasn't, he really wasn't; was he? Rhett hoped his confession didn't end in divorce.

He couldn't drive and have a proper conversation at the same time, even if he WAS better than Link at doing two things at once.

So they'd suffered through the long ride in blistering silence that was much more devastating, emotionnally, than any yelling would have been.

By the time they were dumping their luggage into the spacious suite with a lovely floor-to-ceiling view of the mountains, Rhett was light-headed. Anxiety was fucking killing him.

Apparently, his wife had had enough too.

''Talk to me, Rhett.'' Jessie burst out the instant the door closed. ''Speak. Now.''

_Noooo,_ Rhett wanted to whine. He had a nice dinner reservation; he wanted to wait until after, later... sometime...

He didn't want to deal; he wanted to pretend nothing had changed for a few more hours. Days. Weeks, maybe, if he could...

Except; his wife deserved better than this drawn-out torture.

Also, Rhett might throw up if he had to stand the tension any longer.

''What is it, Rhett?'' Jessie pushed. ''What did I do? What did YOU do? Please, I can't take it anymore... You have to tell me.''

Already, she was crying; curled into a ball on the couch, and Rhett hadn't even said a damning word.

''It's not you... '' Rhett started, realizing as the words came out just how fucking _cliché_ he sounded.

Rhett crossed the infinite pale pine floor to kneel in front of his seated wife; he was so tall that it placed him at the perfect height to look straight into her watery brown eyes.

''It's me.'' Rhett finished in a small voice. Gosh, he was pathetic.

Rhett touched her then, he couldn't help himself. His fingers were drawn to the face of the woman who'd been by his side for so many years.

She flinched, ducking away and MAN, that hurt.

Rhett could see the fire light in her, by the way her eyes narrowed. Jessie was DONE waiting for Rhett find his nerve.

''Did you have an affair? Are you leaving me?'' Jessie attacked, angry and restless in her hurt.

No.

Rhett's throat was too clogged up for him to utter a single sound. No.

Rhett shook his head, violent hair-flying denial as he tried to get his voice back. 

No.

No.

He hadn't.

He wasn't.

No.

Rhett tried to force a justification out; damn it, he couldn't.

He had to fucking explain because God knew, Jessie deserved it after the way he'd been treating her recently.

Rhett was acting like an absolute asshole.

No.

Rhett couldn't, he _couldn't_ talk; months of anguish were all balled up in a skewered mess at the back his throat.

He swallowed and swallowed, SHIT. The words were stuck. 

Rhett's bearded chin wobbled when he unclenched his jaw and he couldn't, fucking _couldn't..._

Tears threatened, no matter how hard Rhett tried to fight them down.

Rhett blinked hard, staring at the ceiling.

_Don't cry._

Oh God, Rhett needed to cry.

He prodded restlessly at his cheeks, at his hair; ineffective attemps at self-soothing.

_Don't cry._

Rhett's face twisted; trying, _trying_ to sort himself out enough to talk.

_Don't cry._

Rhett couldn't deal.

''I love you!'' he managed to get out.

The most important thing; the one he NEEDED to say. The single thing he had never _ever_ questionned through the distressing confusion he'd endured in recent months.

''I love you. I love you, Jess, oh god. _I love you_.'' The phrase looped, scratchy and slightly hysterical.

_Don't cry._

Rhett didn't think he'd been this close to a total break down, ever.

The sobs, compressed in chest, were fucking tearing him apart with how badly he needed to give in.

Rhett wasn't resisting out of some misplaced sense of masculinity.

Rhett couldn't start crying, because if he DID, he would lose it. Completely. If he broke, he was going to lose his self-control entirely.

All he wanted to do was to curl into a ball and bawl. Too much, it was all too much; he just needed a break.

Rhett didn't though; he couldn't.

It would be too selfish; if Rhett allowed himself to sink into that black quicksand, he wouldn't be able to stop. 

He would cry and cry and wallow and not explain and torture Jessie even more.

Damn it.

He had to be strong.

He needed to get a grip; Jessie deserved it.

Jessie's anxious hands were on his shoulders, in his hair; her pale face and fragmented whispers of _it's okay_ only broke Rhett's spirit more.

No.

It wasn't.

It really wasn't okay.

Rhett wasn't okay.

Until.

Finally.

Finally, the cutting lip of the wave of guilt passed; the intensity left Rhett weak and trembly in it's wake, but at least now he was able to take shuddery breaths.

He was through the crashing foamy front of regret; now he floated into something deeper. An infinite ocean of hurt and sadness, terrifying in depth but at them same time superficially tranquil.

Rhett wiped his red eyes.

He could deal now.

He could articulate.

And think.

A bit, even though his thought-processes were still foggy.

''It's not you; you didn't do anything wrong.'' Rhett hoarsely reassured his life-partner.

He pushed himself up to sit on the couch beside her, grunting. He was much too old to be having theatrical break-downs, kneeling on the floor.

''It's not really even anything I did.'' Rhett ran his fingers through his hair, trying to order the burnished curls.

''I love you. '' Rhett's voice wobbled and he choked up again, pressing on before he got stuck.

''I love you so much, Jess. I love you, and the kids, god, so much.'' Underneath the moving waters of his identity crisis, the bedrock of Rhett's love for his family had always remained firm.

''Don't you ever doubt that, okay?'' Jessie nodded tearfully. 

''I don't want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.'' Rhett sniffed hard.

It didn't help.

The tears overflowed then, shit.

Rhett let them.

It wasn't the all-consuming grief that had drowned him minutes ago. _That_ immense hurt had split, somehow. The pain remained tightly wound inside; the water running down his face was inconsequentiel.

Rhett wasn't lost to emotion now, unlike earlier. He was calm; he'd found the eye of the tornado. 

However, he couldn't control the tears AND talk at the same time, and he really _really_ needed to talk.

Tears ran down Jessie's face too, and her pain was like a fork twisted in Rhett's heart.

''I ah... I need to tell you.'' Rhett took a deep shaky sigh. He picked at his beard with trembly fingers, hardly noticing the little grounding tugs.

''I'm not who I thought I was.'' Rhett pressed a finger to his lips, keeping his composure despite the slow leak of hotness down the sides of his face. 

Made

himself

croak:

''I'm.'' 

He couldn't, _he couldn't,_ not to Jessie, his wife, he-

''I think I'm bi. Bi-sexual.''

There.

He'd said it.

Jessie froze.

Rhett corrected himself; removed any doubt, any trace of hesitation.

''I KNOW I'm bisexual. ''

There was a line of wetness getting into the fold by his nose. It tickled.

Rhett swiped agressively at his cheeks, sniffing hard.

No going back.

Bisexual.

Jessie was quiet for a long minute, head down. Rhett couldn't see here face; she was hiding behind a tumbled wall of walnut hair.

'' _When_.'' Jessie's voice was soft, vibrating over a core thread of steel.

''I don't know.'' Rhett admitted truthfully. ''I started to realize it, what? Maybe six months ago.''

Rhett smoothed his sweaty hands down his jeans. The tear-tracks were drying on his cheeks.

It itched.

He felt empty. Surreally calm.

''I didn't want it to be true. God Jess, you have to believe me. I tried to ignore it!'' Rhett could hear the rougness, the urgency in his own voice. At least he was talking.

''I love you Jess. I love you. You gotta believe that.''

Rhett reached out, touched his wife's thigh in a shy caress. She didn't move or acknowledge the contact in any way. So Rhett took his hand away, clutched his knee-cap instead.

''I tried, baby, I tried so hard. To make it go away... To keep going on... To, to pretend. I couldn't. Gosh, I certainly didn't _choose_ this.''

Rhett's words trailed out.

He'd failed at changing his orientation.

Obviously.

If he was telling his wife that he was attracted to men, clearly he hadn't managed to make that problem go away, had he?

Jessie shook her head. Once, then again, faster; stuck on repeat too, long waves of fine hair flying.

Mute denial that fucking tore Rhett apart, made him tug her close.

Rhett wrapped his wife in his arms. She let him.

The contact felt good.

Comforting.

Right.

''Why?'' Jessie asked brokenly after a moment. ''I mean, why now? After all those years.''

She shuddered and her voice turned acid.

''Have you always known? Have you been stringing me along for the duration of our marriage? Am I just a lacking subsitute for a man? For...''

Jessie pulled back, eyes wide. 

''Link.'' She whispered.

And suddenly she burst out laughing, cruel and cynical. 

''Oh god, did you and Link have sex?'' Jessie asked, high pitched and raw around the edges. 

Rhett shook his head. _Of course,_ she would jump to that conclusion.

''No.'' He whispered.

No.

Jessie didn't seem to hear him.

''You and Link... have you always been lovers? Have you been lying to me for twenty years?'' 

And okay, that tore deep gouges of ripping pain inside Rhett, even if he supposed he kinda deserved it. 

Heck, he was starting to wonder if he'd been lying to _himself_ for twenty years. Rhett refused to go down the trail of what-ifs and could-have-beens. The pain down that road was too much to think about.

One thing was sure though; Rhett had never, ever purposely lied to his wife.

''No!'' Rhett grabbed Jessie's bony wrists; he bent over and searched her face until she reluctantly gave in to the forced eye contact.

''No. Jess. I swear. We never. NEVER. Ever. Had sex. You have to believe me.''

Oh God, if she didn't believe him, Rhett didn't know what he'd do...

''I didn't want him, never thought... I swear. I don't know how I could have repressed it that much, or if it was denial or what... but... Jess. You're my only.''

Jessie knew her husband, after all their years of marriage. She could deduce when he was telling the bleeding truth.

''You'll always be my only.'' Rhett promised. It might kill him, he realized dimly, but he'd do it.

Jessie believed him. Rhett knew the instant she made up her mind to trust him, read it in her eyebrows and the straightening of her neck.

He slumped, numb with relief.

It still hurt when she said ''All those rumors, for years... Always... Everybody fucking knew, Rhett. _Everybody_! But me, I believed you when you said it wasn't true. I believed, because _you_ believed it yourself. ''

Her hands squeezed Rhett's, manicured nails digging into his palm.

''And now... You want him. Link.''

Rhett hurt, vast shifting depths of it. He blinked, tears caught on golden eyelashes.

No. Yes.

He didn't, _couldn't,_ answer that.

''It's always been about Link. How could I have been so blind?'' Jessie sounded so aridly annoyed with herself that Rhett choked up again. 

Yes.

No.

Rhett shook his head; he cleared his throat, or tried to. He still sounded sandpaper rough when he spoke.

''I... ugh, I didn't. I didn't know, I swear.'' he said.

Rhett kissed his wife then, desperately.

''I love you.'' he repeated. ''I _want_ you.''

He kissed her again; a longer, lingering crush of mouths.

''I've always wanted you.''

Rhett pressed their lips together, adding a tongue swipe to a kiss that tasted of tears.

And suddenly, desire ignited between them; lust flared HUGE in Rhett's chest, just like when they were dazed young newlyweds.

''I STILL want you.'' Rhett meant the passionate declaration with every fucking aching cell of his body.

Jessie responded with a needy sound, twisting her hands in his shirt sleeves.

''God, Jee-hess!'' Rhett breathed, dizzy with intensity.

Rhett pulled his wife to the bed, uncoordinated and rushed.

He was HARD now.

Really really fucking hard. When was the last time they'd had sex?

**************************************************************************************************************************************

This is where you might want to jump to the next starry line if you do not want to read male/female porn.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Standing at the foot of the king-sized bed, Jessie moaned into Rhett's shoulder.

Rhett bent down, squeezed her tight in a suffocating hug.

He wanted, _needed_ to feel that his wife was safe, in his arms.

The contact was familiar; she fit so nicely against his front. So tiny; deceptively soft over a lean, wiry kind of strength.

Jessie.

His wife.

Shit did Rhett need this, he realized blurrily.

Needed her.

His wife.

Rhett pushed Jessie down onto the fluffy too-white duvet. He crawled up her clothed body, lurching when the mattress sank beneath his knees, kissing random parts of her on his way up.

The hard bump of her knee underneath her leggings; the softer part of her inner left thigh. God, he wanted to bite there, mark her as his. He tried to land a kiss on her belly, beard catching at delicate fabric. Warm skin under his lips, eventually, over the hard flatness of her sternum.

Finally... He slotted easily between his lover's spread legs, shuddering at the familiar pressure of their pelvises connecting.

Rhett kissed his wife.

Properly.

Slowly.

Well, _slower_ anyway; he was trying to be gentle but he fucking _burned_ now. Lust crackled under his skin and Rhett was _starving_ for contact.

Sooo long without.

Gosh.

Rhett shifted his hips, observing the way Jessie's eyes screwed shut.

Not quite...

Hah! Just like that, right there. Jessie's breath hitched when his strong thigh pressed fully, _just perfectly,_ against her crotch.

_Oohh yeah._

Rhett initiated a slow grind, savoring the reluctant answering motion.

Jessie was still annoyed; she wanted to resist. But she was just as deprived, just as wound up as Rhett by the long months he'd pulled away.

Rhett kept up the movement, feeling her thighs squeeze and release around him as she fought the pleasure.

God, it felt good.

Rhett was hard, fucking hard.

Man, it felt good.

The position wasn't really right for him; he was too tall for it. Pushing his upper leg against her meant his cock was crushed awkwardly at the base and the sensitive head wasn't getting much contact at all.

Rhett didn't care. He held himself up over his wife, watching the play of emotions on her face.

Let the bare hunger show on _his_ face.

Jessie.

God, Rhett wanted her.

His wife.

His dick twitched; the feel of his precum oozing out turned him on even more. Fuck.

Rhett caressed her small torso roughly; uncensored, he let his strong hands grip her waist then pushed them up under her shirt.

Jessie arched, finally giving over to the pleasure. Her hips worked in slow undulations that were driving Rhett fucking crazy with how _not enough_ the crotch contact was.

Rhett kissed her, sloppy because he couldn't stop breathing through his slack mouth. Over-heating, he trailed wet kisses down his wife's neck.

When he shifted to rest his full weight between her legs, trying -needing- more friction, Jessie mewled prettily, scratching down his cotton-covered back.

So good, so good; Rhett couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted his partner this much.

Rhet was dizzy with want, with heartsick.

He was too hot in his shirt; his pants were rough and constricting around his ridiculously erect dick.

Jessie was wearing too many clothes too, Rhett determined.

Rhett yanked and pulled his wife's top over her head. God, he needed _more;_ he couldn't keep his hands off her creamy skin.

He also couldn't stop frotting againt her like a teenager, recklessly driving her to orgasm while they were both still mostly dressed just because he could.

Jesus. 

Rhett gave himself over to base instinct; he'd used up all of his self-control earlier.

Now, he could only feel. And devour.

It felt right. Liberating.

There would be time, later, for slow and tender. _This_ moment was about primitive want and reconnecting.

Rhett licked down her collarbone when it was exposed to the cool air; he bit at her shoulder, fumbling with her bra clasp. God, her hair smelled good.

Rhett inhaled deep, until his ribs cracked. He couldn't get enough; needed her to fill every last bubble in his lungs.

Needed her essence dissolved in his blood. 

Jessie groaned when he managed to got the bra undone. Rhett shivered, watching the way her abs moved with hooded green eyes. He slowly humped against her as the muscles in her arms stretched and changed shape when she wiggled out of the elastics.

And then.

He watched her boobs.

Beautiful. Smallish, with dark brown nipples. Soft, so soft.

Rhett cupped both breasts in his large hands, getting off on how big his fingers seemed against her tan skin.

Her chest was warm, the skin flushed; so kneadable... so _inviting._

Rhett couldn't resist.

Was done resisting.

Jessie.

His wife.

Rhett had to lift off her then; he most definately needed to get on all fours over her to worship her breasts properly. Her moan at the loss of friction to her clit was mirrored by his own. But sometimes, you had to take one for the greater good. Rhett gave his neglected cock a quick squeeze, before planting his fore-arms on either side of his wife to support himself.

Aaaah. Perfect. If he rocked his weight to his left elbow, he could use his right hand to press her breast towards the center of her chest. 

Rhett's mouth literally watered at the sight.

Boobies....

What was it about boobies that fascinated him so much?

Rhett was determined to find out.

He began by skimming his nose all over the heavy curve, then angled his jaw to tease her nipple with his beard. Jessie gasped and her hand moved between her legs.

Rhett HAD to use his tongue then, in curling wet little cat-licks.

It wasn't enough stimulation, he knew. He wound his wife up anyway, reveling in her moans as her hips rolled against her palm.

Rhett restrained himself to gentle caresses, switching sides. He breathed hard over the tight nubs until Jessie fisted her small hand in his hair and yanked.

Rhett's mustache stretched as he smiled into her chest, squinting at the pressure on his sensitive scalp.

He knew it wasn't enough, and he'd been doing it on purpose; they both knew that. The jolt to his denied cock made him grunt anyway. Fuck.

Rhett put all of his attention into sucking Jessie's nipples then, correctly. Just how she, he- _they_ \- needed it. Starving, he alternated between both breasts; deep sucking pulls and sharp flicking licks.

 _Boobies, fuck yes!_ his twelve-year old brain chanted gleefully.

He didn't understand the attraction of giant fake porn-star boobies. Jessie's breasts might be softer since she'd nursed the kids ten years ago, but they were so nicely supple.

Fuck.

This woman had mothered his kids. Their union, _their love_ , had created life.

Rhett's brain popped static-white and he froze for a second.

Rhett came back to himself with an embarassingly loud moan and pushed a hand down the back of Jessie's pants. Soft slippery fabric against his fingertips, until he clutched a thick handful of the muscular heat of her ass-cheek.

He couldn't help it then; he NEEDED contact on his crying dick.

Sinking heavily back to his position between her bent legs, Rhett groaned throatily at the sensation.

Fuccck, yeah... So good.

Jessie's hips stuttered and shit, her hand still moved between them. Fuck, fuck, Rhett could feel fine bones and tendons shift against his zipper; her fingers kept rubbing despite how he squashed her hand between them. 

Fuck fuck.

She was too far gone, Jessie was going to...

YES.

With an uninhibited cry, she came apart. 

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Rhett watched his wife orgasm, shaking between his arms.

Fuck yes.

He'd done that.

So hot.

Beautiful.

His forever love.

As Jessie relaxed, Rhett smiled, nibbling her earlobe playfully.

So good.

So hot.

So beautiful.

So... so hard.

Rhett's heart pounded. He needed more; he wanted, he _ached._

Rhett was hot, too hot, boiling; he rolled off of Jess, clumsy and frustrated as he tried to get his clothes off.

God damn it.

Jessie laughed at his struggles, and he grinned back.

He supposed he DID look ridiculous, with his hair everywhere and his eyes wild; his epic erection dangled heavily while his giant feet were tangled in black skinny jeans.

God damn it.

Finally, Jessie's french-manicured fingers wrapped around his straining dick. There was fire in her eyes, even if her movements were lazy and languid after her orgasm.

Rhett loved her so much, god.

Jessie stroked Rhett's penis hard and fast. It was too dry, too rough, too... too fucking much after months without touch. It made pressure coil tight in his balls, much much too fast.

Lord, he was gonna cum already.

No.

Yes.

Gritting his teeth, Rhett stopped Jessie's triumphant motion.

''Wanne eat you out babe, please!'' He managed to beg gruffly.

He had a half-formed plan of getting her off once, maybe twice, with his mouth before he penetrated her.

Rhett was NOT going to last any reasonable amount of time when he got his dick inside her, that was sure.

Jessie took her hand off, eyes like molten chocolate.

''Oooh, Rhett you naughty boy...'' She cooed, pushing Rhett onto his back.

Rhett went down easily. He was a boringly-vanilla sex kinda man. But this...

This was as close to a kink he had and his wife knew it. Rhett loved eating pussy; he could lose himself for hours pleasuring her. He especially reveled in having sex, _after,_ while his beard was still wet and her scent drove him crazy.

''Fuck yeah, sit on my face!'' he encouraged, clutching his twitching shaft with one hand and her leg with the other.

And Jessie did, strong thighs bracketing Rhett's head as she lowered herself over his head.

Oh. She'd shave for their week-end.

Rhett's dick jerked and blurted more precum. He didn't mind a hairy pussy, per se. But the preparation that was behind the shaving got to him. The thought that despite their chaotic life, Jessie had found time to make her mound all smooth for him... Anticipating; hoping for sex during their together-time.

God.

Rhett got in one long lick from back to front before she sank lower and grabbed onto his hair.

It was hard to tell which of them groaned the loudest.

Rhett worked his tongue deep, exploring between her hot folds.

Wet, so slippery... god.

Rhett sucked hard, almost but not quite managing to keep his teeth from nibbling gently.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Rhett wished the sounds that escaped Jess weren't muffled by her thighs around his head. He had to focus instead on her muscular response, on little twitches and quivers, to tell when he was licking her just the way she needed. Like when he stretched his neck as much as he could and pressed the flat of his tongue hard, right against her clit. The little involuntary jerk away -too much- then immediate rolling press back -not enough, were a language of their own.

Rhett groaned, closing his eyes. He cupped double handfuls of her ass, forgotten cock dribbling onto his happy trail.

Fuck yes.

Rhett was only starting to get into it, blissfully focused, when Jessie crashed his house of cards by rolling off entirely.

''Whaaah? No!'' He managed to protest, brain offline.

That wasn't.. He needed, wanted her to...

Jessie knelt back, over his lower body, cheeks red and forehead shiny with sweat.

Rhett barely had time to comprehend what was happening before she was reaching behind her ass and grabbing his dick.

In one slow swoop, Rhett's penis was envelopped by warm _wet_ slick.

Too much, too much, FUCK TOO MUCH! after the endless not-enough.

Rhett was pretty sure he screamed.

Tight, oh fuck, squeezing _everywhere_ on his dick.

Rhett's knees jacknifed and his hips thrust in reflex reaction to the onslaught of sensation.

He knocked his wife forward onto his chest, her pussy still clenched tight around his cock.

''Ha. Ha.'' Rhett gasped, regaining enough presence of mind to unlock hands that were digging bruises into her hipbones.

''Fuck.'' He managed to complain. ''Give a man a warning, gawd. ''

Jess smiled, gorgeous and proud, but her abs clenched with a sharp undertone of tension. _Close, oh._

Cautiously, she shifted backwards until she was sitting up straight.

The motion tugged on the root of Rhett's dick and her juices squished out; Christ, Rhett could feel it on his _balls._

''Wanna cum with you inside.'' Jessie said.

''Urgh.'' Rhett answered eloquently.

Jessie began a slow grinding motion. Rhett was going to die from pleasure.

Soon, Jessie found her rythm; there was a hint of up and down mouvement, but mostly she rocked devastatingly back and forth.

Impaled on Rhett; joined so deep, _god_ , so impossibly deep. 

So sexy.

Heavy-lidded as she towered of him in the afternoon sun, Jessie was marvelous.

His.

Wife.

Rhett was sure he wasn't nearly half as pretty, red-faced and gaping like a fish.

She'd chosen him anyway.

What had he done to deserve her? 

Great. Now Rhett was close to tears again, high on the sheer perfection of the moment. This was one of those rare times in his life when everything felt so beautifully aligned that his soul sang and his heart burst.

He was such a sap.

Jessie smiled down at him, put more weight into her hands pressing into his pecs.

Something changed in her movements; a little more rotation maybe, or a little more knee lift. Unless the change was internal, her growing arousal making her vagina squeeze rythmically.

Oh god, it felt like she was milking Rhett's cock.

And just like that, it was too much.

Orgasm crashed into Rhett sideways.

Rhett's balls hurt and his hips moved mindlessly.

''Hah, hah! Babe, babe... I'm gonna...'' He warned, wide-eyed as a wall of pressure slammed into his body.

Jessie bent forward; kissed him deep and filthy and fuck, she had to be able to taste her juices that were all over his face.

With a quick staccato of involuntary thrusts, Rhett grabbed Jessie by the thighs and convulsed.

The pleasure contracted so intensely it _hurt_ ; a pinpoint of white-hot need that fell into itself right to the brink of becoming a black hole before, _thank god,_ expanding into a technicolored supernova of successive explosions. Pleasure flowed from his cockhead and through his entire fucking body in glorious waves that altered the spacetime field, _they had to._ This was how stars were born.

Jessie whined as came too, Rhett thought. Probaby.

He was free-floating in the space between event horizon and neutron stars, suspended somewhere between atomic particles and the sixth dimension. 

Out of his body because he was so very present _in_ it. Flying like a rock, all states of existence at once and none at all.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

End straight porn. Rhett and Jessie had intense mind-blowing sex, reconnecting after months of Rhett pulling away. 

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

''Rhett?'' 

Jessie was lying beside Rhett, peering at him with a little satisfied smirk that made his insides mushy.

''Urgh.'' he answered.

Jessie giggled, stroking his arm.

''You ok baby?'' she asked after a few minutes of her husband star-fishing with his open eyes staring creepily at the unmoving ceiling fan.

''Mmphh.'' Rhett answered.

Jessie contemplated snuggling closer, but Rhett was too sweaty and covered in both their.... Yeah, no.

So she poked his arm instead.

And did it again.

Until he rolled away, curling into a ball on his side, protesting '' 'm broken.''

Jessie grinned and speckled kisses his freckled back, answering ''I can see that.''

''I love you.'' Rhett eventually said.

''I love you too.'' Jessie responded.

The words shimmered with a new brightness, forged into something stronger by their near loss.

Rhett rolled over to face his wife, eyes bottle-green and genuine as he repeated ''I love you Jess.''

Jessie hummed and kissed his nose.

''I'll do whatever it takes, Jessie. I promise. I can't lose you.'' And fuck, his throat was tightening up again.

Jesus, what a day.

''Ok. I...'' Jessie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The motion made her naked boob move.

Hmmm. Boobies.

''Focus.'' Jess snapped her fingers by her face, until Rhett made guilty eye-contact. Laughter danced in hers.

''I don't know how this is going to play out. How it's going to change us. Or not.''

Rhett nodded seriously.

''But I do know one thing.'' Jess continued. This was her stern momma voice, the one that made the kids listen.

It made _Rhett_ listen.

''This is about me too, about us. You gotta talk Rhett. Don't push me away. Or I WILL walk.''

Rhett felt cold, everywhere _inside_ , because fuck, she meant it.

''Yeah, okay.'' Rhett skimmed a hand down the curve of her soft belly.

''I... I will. Promise.''

Rhett lightly kissed her lips, barely there butterfly brush.

''Link pretty much said the same thing.'' Rhett confessed unthinkly.

Shit,

Shit,

Fuck.

Jessie's brown eyes narrowed but her voice remained calm when she confirmed. ''Link knows.''

Rhett nodded. Done hiding.

''Last week-end. I... I wasn't doin' so good. I, uh, I guess I had a break-down. I told him. I _had_ to.''

''And?'' Jessie probed noncommitally.

''He got real mad. Said I should have told him earlier. Said to stop being an ass who thinks only of myself.''

Rhett looked right into his wife's face as he said it, owning his bullshit behavior.

He'd been an idiot.

Jessie's fingers toyed with the covers, before she asked ''You didn't have sex?''

She sounded so insecure that Rhett choked up again.

He shuffled forward, pressed her to his chest.

''No'' Rhett said into her hair. ''We didn't.''

''We won't.'' He breathed, ignoring the lurch of his heart.

Jessie ran her fingernails lightly along his naked buttcheek; it tickled.

''Link will help. He'll keep me in check if the impulse ever gets too strong, now that he knows.'' Rhett vowed.

Jessie hugged him quietly for a long time.

She pulled away only far enough that they could look into each other's soul, too close and vibrating.

''Promise?'' She whispered.

''Promise.'' Rhett answered. And meant it.

Jessie's eyes filled with tears, so Rhett grabbed her boobie.

She smiled shakily, voice rough as she told him ''Sounds sad.''

Rhett shook his head, but suddenly he was blinded by his OWN tears, fuck.

He tried to formulate a response.

Couldn't.

Jessie wiped Rhett's tears away with her thumbs.

''We... we'll think of something. I can't promise anything. Just... we need time, I think, and conversations. Lots of conversations. With Link and Christy too.''

Rhett's heart swelled to bursting; bent out of shape with love and relief and... and _hope._

He was out.

He was bisexual.

He hadn't lost his wife.

He leaned forward to kiss her. She stopped him with a hand to his chest.

''You stink.'' Jess informed him.

''Your fault.'' Rhett countered brattily.

''Shower.'' they said together.

And laughed

Together.

''Yeah.'' Rhett told the mountains as he watched the teardrop shape of his wife's naked ass move to the ensuite.

''Shower. And steak.''

And talk, he promised internally.

Together.

It was a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was that. I would love your thoughts, considering this is probably the second (maybe third?) time I have ever written straight porn. But stories go as stories go and Rhett was giving me no other choice. What do you think of Jessie and her reaction to Rhett's coming out? 
> 
> Also, this story definately wants to take a turn into poly/ multiples sex. Which it will NOT, out of respect for the readers who started this expecting Rhett/Link. But... also expect some AU outtakes. And one short other bit of not too explicit almost-sex between Rhett and Jessie because there is a point that needs to be made and apparently, it needs sex to happen. sigh.
> 
> xxx
> 
> FrenchCaresse


	9. Moving forward and sideways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> I planned to wait before posting this chapter until the next one was fully written, because it's a bit cliff-hangery. But then today, I watched the vlog Rhett put out where he became Jason Momoa. And my brain exploded because there is a scene in here written way before the vlog came out that just suddenly became too cannon. I am weirded out by how true it rings, I literally only had to add the word ''celebrity hall pass'' to fit reality. The coincidence might make your brain explode too.
> 
> Hang on tight, this chapter is all over the place. There is also a skippable sex scene. And later what seems like the beginning of another sex scene, but isn't, really, and there is no way around it that I could think of. Sorry.
> 
> **** TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTION OF HOMOPHOBIC VIOLENCE **** 
> 
> Also, infinite thanks to Out_of_Nowhere for commenting that Christy would flip her shit. So she did.

Christy flipped her shit.

Totally, complety flipped out at Link over Rhett’s sexuality.

It was such a curveball Rhett would have laughed his ass off, if only Link wasn’t so goddamn miserable.

\---

After months of imagining worse-case scenarios that inevitably ended with Rhett living under a bridge, completely rejected by every single person he loved, inexplicably jobless and talking to a softball, the reality of Jessie’s reaction was pure mockery of his melodramatic ravings.   
  


Even during that first raw week-end of coming out, Jessie was an angel of acceptance.

Having mostly recovered from the wretched break-down of finally spewing his truth, Rhett had reconnected deeply with his wife at dinner. Jessie was supportive and curious. Rhett _made_ himself be vulnerably honest even if at times he wanted to push her probing away; the result was renewed intimacy so strong it made Rhett dangerously teary a few times. As much as he’d planned to make long tender sex to the love of his life that night, the bottle of zinfandel they’d shared and the bone-deep emotional exhaustion had dragged them both to sleep despite his best intentions.

They’d made up for it with lazy morning sex though, before their mountain hike.

The mellow mood had changed again by nightime. The town they were in wasn't a big place, but it's main street bustled with way too many tourists. It was perfect.

Rhett revisited his opinon; Jessie turned out to be closer to a devil than an angel in her acceptance.

Jessie was in a horrible mind-fucking teasing mood, while Rhett was still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that she knew he was bi and the world hadn't ended.

Their wrought iron chairs, on the terrace of a charming bistro, were half hidden by rabidly cascading foliage. It was perfect.

They had spent the entire dinner people-watching as the sun slowly set. And by that, Rhett meant that _Jessie_ had spent the entire meal pointing out men and quizzing Rhett on his preferences. Which was just...

Well for one thing, Rhett had no preferences yet, having suppressed any urges until literally two weeks earlier. And secondly, having his _wife_ , of all people, giggly and wondering if he’d noticed how that guy’s biceps stretched his fancy dress shirt (he hadn't) and how that waiter’s eyes were bordered by eyelashes that were pure decadence (he had) was too much for his poor brain. Despite drinking more than his share of their pitcher of sangria, Rhett blushed and stammered and his wife, his demon wife, well she seemed to think he was stinking cute. Jessie was torturing him on purpose, Rhett was quite sure of this.

Yet he couldn't help his reactions.

Every comment she made destabilized him.

How was a man supposed to deal with his wife asking him to rate random guys asses? Setting aside the dubious morals of treating strangers like eye-candy, the whole situation was so... confusing. Wrong. 

Rhett's desires were confusing. Wrong.

At least, they had been until yesterday. But now... Jessie hardly seemed to notice how _confusing,_ how _wrong_ , it was for Rhett, a happily married presumed straight man to fantasize about gay sex.

No; Jessie was more interested in trying to get Rhett to admit he preferred dark-haired to blonde. Darker-haired _men._

Jessie's remarks made Rhett wish he could sink right between the uneven flagstones. Low-key arousal thrummed in his belly, confusing and forbidden, strongly enough that it was tough to keep his hands out of his lap.

Jessie was pure _evil,_ she was flustering him on purpose. Pointing out all the possibilities, the out-of-reach confusing WRONG possibilities. Apparently, now that he was bi, no-one was safe from Jessie wondering how they would look with Rhett's dick in their ass. She pointed out potential sex partners, every fucking where, Jesus.

Evil.

She might glow with an innocent smile, virtuous facade completed by the cutesy little flower-barette in her hair, but she expertly wound Rhett up into a stammering mess.

On.

Purpose.

Evil. Pure Evil.

Running her pinky finger chastely up the soft inside of his forearm, tracing along his rolled shirt sleeve; it was enough to have Rhett battling a raging _public_ erection.

Her dark eyes sparkled knowingly as she sweetly asked for the desert menu. Christ, Rhett was going to throttle her.

Or maybe throw her over that tablecloth and take her good; pound her amid the smell of garlic bread and the shocked gasps of lovey couples.

Evil.

Man, did Rhett love her.

\---

When they made it back to the hotel room, Rhett crackled with confused desire.

Bed.

Sex.

Finally.

But no, she wanted them to watch porn. Gay porn.

Rhett protested weakly, feeling all kinds of torn and _wrong_ aboutwatching guy-on-guy sex with his _wife._

But Jess had insisted, brown eyes warm and much too understanding. She didn’t mind what turned him on, she explained, as long as he didn’t go ''sticking it into every hot dude''. Rhett was still purple-faced and spluttering when she opened up a pornsite on the tablet, asking for his suggestions.

And Rhett spluttered some more, because he didn’t have any gay porn suggestions, having only indulged twice. He hadn’t, it wasn’t, he just needed to make sure; he wouldn’t, of course he didn’t, he only wanted his wife... 

Sentence fragments and half-formed apologies jumbled into a train-wreck of words, more or less as orderly as his thoughts, so Rhett wisely shut the fuck up.

Jessie rolled her eyes so hard she almost certainly strained something.

And then she was typing names, actual gay porn star names, into the search bar. Because she KNEW gay porn star names.

And casually admitted that if Rhett managed to get his hands on one of those specific dudes, he was most welcome to stick it to them, so long as she could watch.

Rhett thought this might be what a brain aneurysm felt like.

Rhett learned that while _he_ was quite ignorant of the gay porn scene, JESSIE knew her preferences.

And yeah, Rhett hadn’t even thought what the effect of his curling into himself and not touching his wife sexually for months might have done to HER; MORE proof of how selfish he'd been. He started apologizing, but Jessie kissed him softly and looked him right in the eyes as she assured him it was okay.

Jessie's sex drive hadn’t died when his own had shriveled up in confusion. So... Gay porn. Jess had gotten off watching gay porn. While Rhett had been fighting with every once of his will-power NOT to give in to the lure of gay porn. Well, the allure of Link, but it could all be jumbled to the same general category of _not straight_. The irony cut so smoothly Rhett hardly noticed it hurt.

It made sense, how Jessie explained it; she liked men, so the more men, the better. And gay porn certainly focused on pretty boys more than straight porn did.

Rhett immediately noticed the difference when the clip started rolling. There was... care... for aesthetic in the scene she picked. These must be higher class porno productions, he thought. The lighting was good; the decor was ... tasteful. Nice patterned bedding, minimalist furniture, potted plants and trendy abstract paintings; all of that attention to detail would appeal to Jessie’s visual tastes, Rhett knew.

He got it. But still...

Gay Porn. There was so much Rhett didn't know about his wife, he was discovering.

Like how Jessie chose her porn clips strictly for the bottom.

Her GAY PORN.

Rhett couldn't let himelf think too much about Jessie playing with herself, watching gay porn in their damn marital bed while he worked too late on purpose, or he was going to embarass himself with a premature ejaculation like he was fucking sixteen instead of forty. Rhett was so out of his depth in that moment that a large part of him seriously considered getting back into his car and driving away.

Anyhting to escape the twilight zone of surreal confusion.

But Jessie smelled familiar and his wedding ring sparkled when he touched her cheek; it was okay, he was okay.

He could follow Jessie's lead.

There were a few bottoms who seemed more honest in their interactions, Jessie told Rhett while they both got naked. Guys whose movements and expressions radiated real pleasure, honest and raw.

''Watch.'' Jessie whispered, settling in on her side while Rhett hugged himself close to her back.  
  


************************************************************************************************************************

Following is a short very Rhett-centric depiction of sex with Jessie, in which no female parts are explicitly described.

***********************************************************************************************************************

''Watch with me.'' Jessie whispered. ''It's okay.''

And Rhett _almost_ could.

Watch, and be okay.

Almost.

Some entrenched prejudice rooted deeply inside him was still uneasy with ''homo stuff'' and getting turned on by it; getting aroused being the big spoon to his naked wife was okay though. Combine both, and... that only messed up his poor fried brain-cells.

He supposed it was why she was making him go through with the experience.

Jessie was evil.

Rhett was okay.

He loved her so much.

Rhett’s face burned and he wanted to squirm. He couldn’t tell if he was hard because of the hours of teasing at the restaurant, or because of Jessie’s hair tickling his chest or because of the lewd sounds of the blow-job on the i-pad.

But _damn,_ he was hard.

And good god, how did anyone even swallow a dick that size? Rhett groaned. He couldn't tell if he wanted to be blown with such enthusiasm or if he wanted to be the one whose lips were stretched with cock. There were too many guys in this gay porn, and not enough boobies. Actually, there were only two guys; still, it didn't matter if he imagined himself in the Top or the Bottom role. There was no perspective for Rhett to put himself in to enjoy watching that was safely hetero.

It was all so wrong, but it felt so good; Rhett focused on caressing the curve of his wife’s hip, savoring the goosebumps.   
He breathed down the side of her neck, then cupped a nice handful of boob. Ah, that was more like it.

The movie faded into blurry background sounds as Rhett sucked a biting kiss into his wife’s shoulder, dragging his wet dick-head along the back of her leg.

She gave a dismayed grunt, body pliant in his arms as she complained. ''SSsssshh. Wanna watch the movie with you.''

Rhett didn’t; he very much didn’t wanted to watch gay porn in bed with his wife.

It did uncomfortable things to the nice safe divisions inside his mind. It created a queasy kind of slick unease, like watching surgery on YouTube did.   
  


''Want _you. ''_ he complained bitchily, poking his erection between her thighs.

With a sigh, Jessie bent a knee and tilted her hips; Rhett sheathed right in.

OOOoooh. That was more like it.   
  


However, when Rhett pumped his hips, Jessie reached a hand back to press against his butt, stopping the movement.

''Be good now.'' Jess scolded.

''Don't move. Just... Watch.'' She urged.

And fuck, now it was worse. 

Buried deeply in his wife, Rhett obediently turned his attention to the screen.

Watch.

Fuck.

Rhett watched the cute bottom being stuffed; he watched a giant penis impossibly disappearing into a tiny ass. He had to.

Jessie wanted him to watch. It kinda made him feel as though Jessie was using him like a sex toy; he was an accessory, something pleasant to stuff herself with while she watched the movie.

Fuck.

_Wrong,_ his brain screeched even as his cock jumped and THAT made Jessie groan and squeeze, and _that_ was right, so right, fuck.

Rhett forced his eyes shut, but the darkness only made him more aware of the pounding in his dick and how badly he needed to thrust.   
  


So he opened them again and watched the tablet.

Fuck.

He was staring right into that goddamn twink’s bottomless eyes that were pleading for dick.

Damn.

Rhett wanted to give it to him. 

Wrong, _so wrong_ , and yet so right. Rhett moaned, low and _filthy_ , trying to remain calm.

Teeth gritted, Rhett stretched his spine. It didn’t help: being still SUCKED.

Remaining motionless, oversensitive, was torture; Rhett needed to goddamn MOVE.

Rhett couldn't parse right from wrong anymore. He couldn’t think of anything, except that he needed to fuck so badly he was shaking out of his skin.

The bottom on the screen was on his knees now, heavy dick dragging between his legs as he writhed against the cock in his ass.

Shit, to get that angle, the cameraman had to be lying on floor between the top’s feet, inches away from sweaty swinging testicles. Hhhmm. Rhett had done many things for camera angles, but man, talk about awkward!

Rhett indulged in one, two deep satisfying deep thrusts that had Jessie gasping and curling up.

So good! So close, fuck yeah!

''Please, no, don’t.'' Jess slurred. ''Wanna wait for them, wanna cum at the same time as the movie.'' 

Damn. It.

Rhett could see the pulsepoint in Jessie's throat thrumming and feel the clenching in her thighs; She was too close. Shit, _he_ was too close. The only way to wait was to continue to not-fuck.

With a groan of frustration, Rhett pressed his stomach tight to his wife's ass. He couldn't stop _moving,_ not completely; he was too far beyond arousal for that.

The best he could do was move them together. Back and forth, rocking their hips together, balls-deep and not pulling out. It helped temper the urge to fuck, a bit, but at the same time _not_ .   
  


Fuck that, Rhett was gonna go primal. 

So of course Jessie groaned a ''Thank you, you’re the best!'' and arched up for a distracted sloppy almost-kiss at that moment.

And THEN Rhett was torn between the urge to please her and the need to mate like nature intended.

Damn it.

She was evil.

Pure evil.

Rhett was hot, _so hot;_ sweaty as heck. 

Putting his attention back on the screen as a distraction from how his balls ached was the final nudge that terminated his fragile control.   
  


The bottom was on his back now, legs spread. And man, he was HARD.

Rhett could see the guy's dick flex with every slow push into his ass. It was impossible to ignore it, with the camera zooming in like that. The man was fighting a losing battle with his orgasm, just like Rhett.

Long graceful hands clutched white finger-shaped dents into the actor's thighs, then skimmed over his tight belly.

Rhett groaned, getting sucked into the scene.

_Touch it, man, do it!_ he chanted internally.

Rhett became completely focused on the screen, only dimly aware of the warning fizzles in his belly.

_Do it! Cum_. Rhett commanded silently.

Rhett was mesmerized by the naked pleasure written all over the actor's tipped-back face. God the man was hot, so hot, so intense, Rhett wanted...

FUCK.

Rhett lost the choreographed rythm of not-quite-fucking; suddenly, friction and drag sizzled up his cock and punched the breath from his gut.

He was going to cum RIGHT FUCKING NOW, _already clenching up_ , GOD.

Rhett's eyes slammed shut and he grabbed his wife’s hips to concentrate fully on the few perfect strokes he gave them.

Yeeesss.

Rhett took them to pieces with the image of that man arching in desperate desire from being fucked painted onto the back of his eyelids.

Fuck, so right.

It couldn't be wrong if it was this good, could it? If his wife liked it too?

God, Rhett loved Jess. His wife was the best. It was why he'd married her.

Also, she was evil.

Pure evil.

************************************************************************************************************************

************************************************************************************************************************

If you skipped it, Jessie made Rhet have sex while watching gay porn. As summed up in this sentence from earlier:

It did uncomfortable things to the nice safe divisions inside his mind.

**************************************************************************************************************************

**************************************************************************************************************************

Rhett was so buoyant and sated from all the sex they'd had, including two other reassuringly normal times, that he barely touched the floor walking into the office on monday morning.

Damn, he'd just had more sex in three days than in the past three months!

He wasn't paying Link much attention as he stashed his bag away. 

''How'd it go?'' Link asked as Rhett wondered if he still had that gift box of variety teas in the bottom drawer of his desk. He was feeling adventurous.

''Hmmm. It went great, man. Jessie was so good to me. She's amazing, understanding and all of that.'' Rhett blabbed distractedly.

No tea box. Had he brought it home? Maybe it was in the mythical kitchen.

Stretching contentedly, he added. 

''And the sex, the sex....'' Rhett chef's kissed.

''Gosh, why did I ever wait so long to tell her? I'm an idiot, Link.'' He finished.

Swiveling his chair, Rhett finally looked at his best friend properly.

Damn.

Link looked awful.

He was hiding it well under perfectly placed hair and a nice clean shave. But there were dark shadows under his eyes and his lips did that pressing-together thing that made strain lines appear.

''What...'' Rhett started.

''You.'' _look like shit_ he cut off.

''Are you... okay?'' He asked rather more diplomatically.

''Yeah.'' Link reassured, too fast and loud for Rhett to believe him.

Link ran a hand through his thick hair, smoothing it up and back nervously, finishing with a clenching type of movement like he was locking it into place.

''Christy is mad.'' Link admitted, staring at Rhett's feet. ''Really fucking flipped her shit.''

Oh.

Rhett swallowed.

Surely it wasn't about...

It couldn't be because of him.

Could it?

Link had turned mute, and he sure didn't look like he would start explaining anytime soon.

''Is it... um...'' Rhett fidgeted, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

''Because you told her I'm.'' Rhett swallowed.

''Bi.'' He pushed out, blushing.

God, he had to start practicing saying it out loud. He _so_ needed to get over the feeling that someone was going to pop out of the shadows and knock him behind the head for saying forbidden words.

Link stared unseeing at Rhett's ankles for much too long before he said. 

''Yes.''

One word.

No explanation.

''You been sleeping on the couch, man?'' Rhett ribbed with a too-loud guffaw.

Link gave no answer, face blank and withdrawn. 

Rhett sucked in a surprised breath.

Ooookayy.

It was bad then.

Really really bad.

If Link couldn't even joke about the last hysterical fight he and his wife had gotten into, it was still on-going.

That sobered Rhett right quick.

''I... I'm sorry Link. That... that sucks. And it's not fair. It's not even you! It's _my_ sexual orientation, not yours.''

Link's eyes flew to Rhett's face, glassy and fuckin' scary.

_Don't play dense,_ that look said. _Me, you. It's always been the same._

Link didn't speak the words, but Rhett heard them all the same.

Rhett swallowed.

''Would it help if I called Christy? Explained? That I'm not going to.... That we're not... me and you?'' 

It wasn't just a bluff either, he'd do it for real. Maybe not gladly, but if Link thought it could help, he would.

Christy was a good woman, but she had her hangups.

She was so much more anxious than Jess, more insecure. She could be scary when she unhinged.

Both their phones vibrated with a text, Link's on his desk and Rhett's in his coat pocket. Neither man looked at their screens.

They both knew they were due for make-up fifteen minutes ago.

Link pushed his glasses up, with an unusually rough sort of motion. 

''No.'' Link said. ''Don't. Don't call her. It'll only make things worse.''

He straightened his shoulders; Rhett could see Link dragging his nerdy clueless happy persona back into place.

It hurt to watch him do it.

''Do you wanna... should I ask Jess to...'' Rhett trailed off as Link stood up, tucking his shirt in properly. 

How strange was it that his own wife, who was the one most directly affected by Rhett's sexuality, might help his best-friend's wife accept how Rhett was? It made his brain pop to think about.

Link shook his head.

''No. Just give her time.'' He asked. The words were quiet. Hopeful, but with a shadow of dread. Link didn't really believe time was going to help.

Damn.

Rhett squeezed Link's bony shoulder when they passed through the doorway at the same time. 

Link shuddered and leaned against his best friend for a few seconds, before shaking himself and heading out.

''And besides! '' Link said cheerfully. Fully back to faking normal now, any hurt neatly tucked away. Rhett ached for him.

''I didn't sleep on the couch!''

Rhett arched an eyebrow, knowing in his gut that a punchline was coming.

''I didn't sleep at all man!'' Link said with a loud cackle and an elbow poke.

Rhett laughed, the boisterous sound echoing down the corridor.

Rhett laughed, because if he didn't, he was gonna cry.

\---

Life as Rhett had always known it continued after that fateful week-end.

He didn't lose his family.

He was not living under a bridge.

He hadn't started talking to soft-balls.

No-one but Jess and Link knew at the moment, and that was all right.

Perfect.

Rhett's mood improved greatly; his emotions were easier to deal with now that he wasn't crushed under the tremendous weight of secrecy.

Now that he was feeling better, he finally booked that appointment with his therapist. 

\---

''So, Rhett, it's been a while!'' Mike said. Rhett liked him. He didn't tolerate bullshit much.

''Yeah, I, uh. Sorry.'' Rhett rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. It had been eight months, more or less, since his last appointment.

''Anything in particular you want to talk about?'' It was a freaking loaded question, despite how casually it was asked.

They both knew it. Rhett clearly had a reason if he'd felt the need to come back to therapy after such a long time.

''I, uh, I might have been doing not so good.''

Rhett admitted, staring at the thick black plastic wheels under Mike's computer chair. They couldn't roll very well over that peruvian-type woven rug, could they?

His therapist maintained an expectant silence, letting the emptiness grow until words HAD to burst from Rhett to fill it.

Rhett knew what Mike was doing. It worked anyway.

Shit, he was good.

''I had a break down, okay? Or two.'' Rhett's voice sounded agressive and rough, even to his own ears. 

Rhett swallowed hard. He hated feeling backed into a corner, it made the fighter in him come out.

Except his therapist hadn't even said anything; Rhett had no-one but himself to be angry with.

''Would you like to tell me why?'' Mike asked, too soothingly.

Rhett nodded.

Yeah, he would. He needed to tell Mike; it was why he was here.

Still, it took effort to push out the words.

''It was... I, um, I... I had a difficult time... _coming out.''_

Mike didn't physically jump in his seat, he was too professional for that. But his eyebrows rose comically, and his eyes turned into marbles; he blinked too fast at Rhett.

''Come again?'' He asked. And okay, that was unfiltered and almost cute.

Rhett laughed, he couldn't help it. The look on Mike's face...

''I came out. As bisexual. To my wife. And to Link. It went well, but I was fucked up for a while.''

Mike's voice sounded strained as he repeated. ''You came out. As bisexual. To your wife. And to Link.''

Rhett nodded.

The silence grew again.

Rhett stared at the stacks of books all over the desk, overflowing from the library. There was even a lopsided pile in the corner. Mike really liked books.

''Rhett, people don't just... come out, easy like that. Lightly. Sexual orientation is a very sensitive topic. FOR EVERYONE. There's a long road of questionning, of uncertainety that leads to the point of actual coming out.''

Rhett nodded. There was.

''I've never heard of this issue before... because? '' The question was sharp.

And, true. That was a well-deserved jab.

Rhett acknoweldged it, scratching his beard.

''That's... Good point. I, uh, I should have called.''

Mike rolled his eyes.

''I know, man, I know! I couldn't, okay?'' Rhett's tone was too loud and combative again.

He deserved the gentle scolding look.

''I couldn't talk about it, with you, or, or anyone.'' Rhett tried to tone the aggression down; he gestured more, channelling the energy into talking with his hands

''I wasn't... I wasn't _sure._ That I was... was attracted to men. So I couldn't discuss it with you. ''

Mike gave a long-suffering sigh, like Rhett heard his wife use when the kids were being persistently dense.

''Rhett. You don't need to have all the answers to come see me. It's okay to ask for help. You don't have to be strong and certain...'' 

Rhett picked at the end of a thread in the fashionable rip of his jeans.

''It's all right to doubt. To... question.'' Mike told him. Rhett pulled on the thread, just a tiny bit. He wondered; if he pulled harder, would it unravel half his pants?

''Rhett. You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable; we've been through this, man.''

Rhett nodded.

They had.

He did.

He knew he did.

Rhett yanked on the thread. There was a satisfying moment when a horizontal split ran along the top of the rip. 

It stopped when the thread reached the edge of the hole; now there was a long dangly bit hanging.

Mike shook his head, letting the subject drop.

''And you are now? Sure? Since you came out. '' Mike asked, carefully non-judgemental.

''Yes.'' Rhett answered firmly. He wondered if Mike was queer. It was none of his business.

''How long have you been questionning your orientation?''

Rhett could tell Mike was going through their last encounters in his mind, searching if Rhett had dropped a clue.

He hadn't. Rhett had barely started to get the first intrusive fantasies about Link, before he'd been '''too busy'' to come back to therapy as his life spiraled.

Mike mused ''We've talked about this before. Of you and Link, and being perceived as gay.''

They had.

It had helped.

Rhett scrubbed at his face.

''We're gonna have to talk about it again. Because me and Link, we're still not... lovers. He's not... But me, yes.''

Mike nodded.

''Things changed... I changed. If I said it's Link's fault, would you be surprised?'' Rhett asked.

Mike just stared, wielding silence as a deadly weapon.

''Link came out privately too, as non-binary. A while back, I think I told you that?'' 

Mike nodded again. His thin hair was too long, it flopped limply.

''It... changed something in me too. The more Link started affirming his gender, the more I... lusted.'' Rhett finished awkwardly.

''Until I couldn't ignore it anymore.''

Rhett settled into his chair. They were moving into therapy mode, Rhett could feel the shift, like the air was denser.

Mike asked him to think back, to re-evaluate the past.

He asked Rhett to honestly wonder if he'd ever felt sexually attracted to Link, or any man, before.

Rhett attempted to do as instructed. He'd tried to figure out the same thing himself, for months on end.

Back to six months ago.

Back to two years before, when Link was simple boy-Link.

Earlier, back when they were young and unwed and had their whole lives like a landcape ahead of them.

It was useless.

Rhett couldn't remember ever consciously desiring Link, or any man.

It also didn't make much sense that Rhett had abruptly begun to have these wants when he was forty. Mike pointed out.

Rhett agreed. Homosexuality wasn't a virus that you caught and developed suddenly. It bugged him too.

Why would Rhett completely subdue even the smallest recognition of attraction to a man?

Mike asked Rhett to journey further into the past.

All the way back; back to the first time Rhett could remember realizing what homosexuality meant.

Rhett had been about eleven or twelve, he thought.

He dropped straight into a vivid memory.

_Rhett could smell the lingering cigarette smoke in his uncle's yellow-lit garage as the men hung out waiting for... something. A battery to charge, maybe._

_He was drawing shapes in the dust with his grimy sneaker toe, sorta paying attention to the conversation but mostly bored and thinking about dinner._

_''Ya hear 'bout that kid?'' His uncle had gruffed._

Damn, adult Rhett couldn't remember the boy's name anymore; it had happened so long ago. 

  
_''Got beat up pretty bad, did he?” his Dad had answered, swigging his beer. ''Sheriff said he might not make it.''_

_Rhett had paid attention then, motionless by the cinderblock wall. He knew the boy they talked about. He was older than Rhett, by, what, four or five years? He lived in a red farmhouse two roads up, past the mill._

_Rhett admired his moves at the skate-park; dude had a sick kick-flip._

_The adults had clearly forgotten about Rhett. This was grown-up stuff; gossip he wasn't supposed to be hearing. He'd held his breath, trying to be invisible._

_''He was caught doin' unnatural-type things with that city man in the shed behind the gas bar.'' His uncle had said._

_Rhett's Dad had nodded. Rhett wasn't quite sure what that meant, but the disgust in the tone made it clear that this was a VERY BAD way to act._

_''Had it comin’ then, sinnin' like that.'' There had been no emotion in the way Rhett's Dad answered. No anger, or sadness; nothing. He was stating a fact of life._

_Kid Rhett had broken out into chills. He viscerally remembered the goosebumps prickling down his skinny too-long arms._

_The boy had kind eyes, and he always shared his gum with Rhett even if he was younger. And now he was damaged, maybe dead. And he deserved it._

_Then his aunt was calling them in, and Rhett had kept his mouth shut about what he'd heard until he'd forgotten it completely._

Damn.   
  


Adult Rhett was breaking out into chills too. He felt sick.

His Dad wasn't the violent kind of man who would track down a sixteen-year-old gay kid and pound him unconscious.

But the way he'd accepted the occurance...

Adult Rhett was close to a panic attack, he thought. He didn't really know, he'd never... He wasn't like Link.

His Dad was a good man; a generous, stoic family-man. Adult Rhett couldn't reconcile how he perceived his Dad and how his father had been okay with what had happened back then. 

The reaction felt so cold, so... uncaring. Like it was a normal thing to happen...

Maybe it was.

Getting caught having sex with a man in a small bible-thumping town in the nineties made being beaten to death acceptable.

Damn. Damndamndamndamn Damn.

''Fuck, Mike.'' Rhett choked out, wondering if he’d puke.

''How come I never remembered... That's just... My Daa-aad. '' His voice wobbled.

Mike's face was sympathetic.

Rhett's eyes burned. Suddenly, he _needed_ to remember the boy’s name. Maybe Link would know, he was better with names.

Rhett desperately needed to stalk Facebook or some shit and find out that the kid was okay.

Maybe he wasn't.

Fuck.

''Damn Mike, gunna make me cry.'' Rhett warned, smiling as he sniffed hard. 

Mike just pushed the kleenex box at Rhett.

\---

Things got better faster then.

It felt like Rhett could BREATHE fully for the first time in a year.

It wasn't all butterflies and rainbow glitter though.

The following months were marked by a sick sorta role reversal.

Rhett had stepped right through the mirror; everything was _flipped._

Rhett was doing better, so much better; good even.

But Link... Link wasn't.

Link was so, so _tortured s_ ometimes.

Rhett wished his friend could just be happy.

\---

At least Rhett was doing much better in regards to pining.

The improved communication between him and Jessie seemed to have sparked their sex life.

Or maybe she had a thing for dudes together, sexually.

She had a tendency to talk too much, quizzing a blushing Rhett about fantasies he didn't even know he HAD.

It was destabilizing, but it forced him to grow.

And the sex had never been hotter. Rhett had the dim impression that they were heading down the path to trying anal. On him.

Lord.

Giving himself the permission to do some solo exploration when he could was liberating.

Who would have thought that regular orgasms made a man less horny? Ha fucking ha.

Rhett's horizons broadened, so to say.

After a few intense sessions of working through crap with Mike, he was starting to be able to recognize the pull towards other men. Sometimes.

He was a work in progress, but it wasn’t only his unattainable best friend that turned him on after all.

Which was quite a relief, in an odd way. Rhett could deal with a general sharpening of his attractions easier than with a kinky obsession with his best mate.

Pair the realization with his concern for Link, and the pull between them was hardly more than a simmer.

Thank goodness.

\---

Jessie's endless teasing comments about men somehow normalized Rhett looking at guys and gauging their attractiveness.

Rhett's subconscious removed the homo guilt from oggling men without his knowledge.

When they watched Aquaman, Rhett dreamily sighed "Man, he's hot." without thinking.

It was the first time he’d ever made a comment like that, unprompted.  
  


Jessie paused the movie to arch an amused eyebrow at him.

"What!" Rhett defended his honor. "That was a perfectly hetero admiration of Jason Momoa's muscles."

"It was not." Jessie contradicted gleefully. "It was a perfectly homo I _want him to man-handle me_ dream."

Jessie held Rhett's stare until he gave in, admitting "Fine, fine. Whatever.” 

He glanced at the tattoo'd bod frozen on the tv screen. 

"You're right. He's hot. I'd do him." Rhett grudgingly admitted.

Jessie slapped him on the chest with the remote.

"You would NOT." She claimed. "He's mine."

Rhett opened his mouth to argue but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"MY celebrity hall pass." Jessie pressed, eyes sparkling. 

Damn, Rhett loved her.

So he kissed her.

It was tender and sweet, hinting at slow and heady. Mmmm.   
  


So Rhett kissed her again.

As the movie resumed, Rhett mumbled "Did you just call dibs on Jason Momoa?''

He got smacked with the remote again for that.

___

Time did NOT help Christy, as Rhett had feared.

Link tried to keep his marital troubles to himself.

It didn't work, just like when Rhett had tried pulling away.

Link was on-edge and jumpy, walking on egg shells.

Rhett _hurt_ for his friend.

Link was careful around Rhett; so _so_ very careful.

And Rhett got it, he really did.

He respected Link's need to avoid any kind of intimacy between them to preserve his rocky marriage.

Rhett kept to himself, as much as he could.

Made conversations light and joking.

Avoided situations where they were alone together. 

Never, ever touched Link anymore, unless it was for GMM and he couldn't help it. It created a weird grey void in their friendship. Rhett had never realized before how comfortable they were with touching each other, until they _weren't._

Rhett didn't complain, although sometimes the urge to soothe Link with a hug made his teeth ache.

Rhett let Link shoot down concept after concept for the show.

Basically, anything that involved dressing up or even getting out of their seats was a no. Where-as the last season had been invaded by a ridiculous amount of innuendo, this one was almost strictly food tests.

Which was... not _bad_ , exactly, and it shone a nice light on the mythical chefs. The fans commented about missing the spark of the old days.

Rhett agreed, though he would never have admitted it.

Rhett didn't complain. He hovered in the shadows, helplessly watching Link creep back into his restricting shell.

Link was certainly not allowing himself ANY feminine gender affirmation.

It was back to t-shirts and ball caps and too-loud fidgety Link.

That was bad for him, gosh. Rhett could read when Link was dysmorphic through his body language.

Which was basically everyday now, since he was being stubborn and stupid.

And he wasn't getting laid, clearly, so he regressed into a jumpy, tense ball of crackling surplus energy.

Rhett knew how Link worked, he _saw;_ Rhett needed to say so many things to his friend.

But he didn't dare say _anything_ or the situation would blow up in his face, that much was sure. Link was ITCHING for a fight.

The whole mess was Rhett's fault. Even if Mike insisted that the state of Link's marriage could not be placed solely on Rhett's shoulders, he felt responsible.

So Rhett shut up and gave Link the only thing he could. 

Space.

Miles and eons of infinity between them.

\---

Shep asked to have Lando at his birthday dinner.

For the first time in months, the Neal’s and the McClaughlin’s gathered for a backyard pool party.

It felt GOOD. Right.

The kids were oblivious to the tension between their parents, running around screeching with water guns like they were five years younger.

Rhett remained stationned behind the safety of the grill, mostly, nursing a single beer.

_Careful, careful._

Rhett was on his best fucking behavior. Ever.

He really wanted to show Christy that things were okay. This was the first baby-step in the right direction.

Christy was tense but she went along with small talk, agreeing to a tour of Jessie’s flower beds. The chardonnay helped her loosen up some more and Link beamed like the sun.  
  


Rhett laughed and made Dad jokes, ignoring the hard ball of nerves in his stomach.

_Careful, careful._

He slipped only once, when the sight of Link’s sagging waistband while he dried off with a striped beach-towel prompted an unwanted image of Link tugging off his bathing suit entirely.   
  
No.

_Don't._

Rhett gripped the spatula and squashed the rogue thought to smithereens.

Fuck no.

Link and his family were at his home for the first time that summer.   
He was not going to ruin the occasion.

The whole thought-process lasted less than thirty seconds.

Of course, Jessie had to be staring right at Rhett when he scanned the yard, a pitying expression on her face that made Rhett choke up.

Link had a towel over his head, and his wife was untangling Jade's leash, thank goodness.

No.

Rhett turned to the burgers, strengthening his resolve.

Just no.

Don't even think.

\---

That night, Jessie snuggled up to Rhett in bed.

Rhett was relaxed and happy with the way the evening had turned out. There had been no fights, the kids had fun, and good-byes were cordial.

Maybe they could get together again soon.

Baby steps.

Jessie kissed his neck and Rhett stretched agreeably; a little sex would nicely end the day.

Jessie clambered half over his tall body; she stroked his bare chest and kissed his collarbones.

Rhett traced light circles on her back. When her head tipped up, he dove in for a kiss that was soon all tongue and passion.

Jessie’s fingers wrapped around Rhett's hard dick through his boxers, feeling him up.

Rhett groaned, head rolling on the soft pillow.

Fuck yeah.

''I saw.'' Jessie whispered.   
  
Rhett didn’t pay too much attention to the words; having a hand on your cock did that to a man.

''I saw.'' Jessie said again. ''I saw how you looked at Link.''

Rhett groaned. ''Jess, no. Don’t.''

  
Jessie tugged his earlobe between her teeth, and Rhett’s vision swam. Her hands moved up to flick his nipples.

Hah. 

''You liked seeing him half-naked in that wet bathing suit.'' Jess continued.

Unease coiled, constricting Rhett’s lungs.

He grunted, chasing a kiss; he needed to shut Jessie up because talking about Link during sex was all kinds of wrong.

Rhett succeeded in returning his wife's attention back to them. So he thought.

A few minutes later, when Rhett moved his mouth off Jessie's and grabbed a nice hold of her lovely ass, she continued.

''Did you want to see Link naked?'' She purred.

No.

Rhett froze and stopped responding to her caresses, rigid with tension.

''Jess please.'' He begged weakly.

Jessie coiled seductively against him, rubbing his scratchy thigh hairs against her panties.

Rhett's protests were too faint; she wasn't taking him seriously.

Rhett didn't have the will to be more forceful; his world had tipped sideways, contracting on the verge of implosion.

''Did you want to touch him?'' Jessie asked.

No. No.

Wrong.

Rhett was suffocating; why was there no oxygen in this goddamn room?

He couldn't even form words, a strangled sound catching in his throat.

''Did you wonder what it would be like to touch Link's dick? Do you want him to touch yours?'' Jessie husked, reaching her hand down to do as she said.

No. No.

_Don’t._

Rhett’s head exploded about the same time her hand made contact with his completely soft cock. The throbbing interest of earlier had melted to a distressed slump.

Shit, if Jessie made him hard while talking about sex with Link, Rhett would...

It was wrong, all wrong; Rhett needed to get away.

Right the fuck NOW.

Rolling out of bed too fast, he grabbing his robe and hurried away from Jessie's voice.

Fuck, fuck; he was freaking out. Solid melt down, crap.

Grabbing two beers from the fridge, Rhett plodded to the couch outside.

Because they had a fucking outside couch.

This was California.

Heartsick and upset, Rhett glared at the moon and downed his first beer in four large swallows and a belch.

Twisting the cap off the second bottle, he tried to gather his stormy thoughts.

He was halfway through the brew when Jessie appeared.

She sat gingerly by his side and Rhett tugged her in for a hug. She felt nice and warm against his side; the wind carried a biting sharpness tonight.   
  


''I’m sorry.'' She eventually said.

''S’okay.'' Rhett replied. And it was true: things were okay between them. Jessie had misread the situation, but he hadn't exactly been clear on how devastated he felt.

He needed a minute to gather himself right now, but he wasn’t _mad_ at Jess.

Rhett took a swallow of his beer; the sound of his throat moving was loud in the silent yard.

''I should have known.'' Jessie eventually commented, pushing her hair behind her ear.

Rhett shrugged.

''We’ve talked about dudes in bed before.'' He confirmed.

It had been good. More than good. _The other times._

''But not Link.'' Jessie whispered.

''No.'' Rhett agreed. ''Never Link.''

He wanted to take a swallow of beer, but he didn't dare; he could feel emotion starting to clog in his throat. Jessie heard it too, in the rougher timbre of his voice.

She ran her hand over his back in soothing circles.

''With Link... it's... different.'' Jessie said.

A car passed in the road, swinging splash of headlights and gravel crunch; there and gone.

''It’s not about sex, with Link.'' Jessie murmured, smoothing Rhett’s robe over his thigh.   
  


Rhett was frozen, silent; trying and failing to hold up the crumbling ice-dam round his heart.

''It’s never been _only_ about sex with Link, has it?'' Jessie didn’t wait for the answer Rhett couldn’t give.

She concluded by herself. ''It’s about _love_.''

Rhett shivered, once; utterly powerless to prevent the full bodied spasm of pain.

He hurt too badly.

Finally, he managed a battered ''I love you, baby. Don’t you ever doubt that.''

Fuck, his voice grated and cracked.

Jessie hugged him again.

''I know.'' She said quietly. ''I DO know that. It's not... it isn't me or him. Not one or the other, for you, is it?''   
  


Rhett pressed her close, one-armed.

He couldn't answer a question like that.

The possibilities, _the impossibilities,_ welled into heart-ache that was like a thick inky spill he couldn't stop now.

Rhett's teeth chattered with how hard his chin shook.

Rhett sniffed and wiped his red eyes, staring at the silver ripples of moonlight glinting off the pool.   
  
  


Rhett was cracked right open, broken and bleeding in the quiet night air.

They sat for a long time.  
  


''It doesn’t matter what I feel.'' Rhett eventually confided.

Jessie cried a little then; Rhett could feel the wetness where her cheek rested sticky on his pec.

He didn’t know if she cried for herself, or for him. Maybe she cried for Link.

Finally, she stood, wiping her face.

''I’m going to bed.'' She told her husband.   
  


Rhett nodded.

''I’ll be in soon.''

He grabbed her warm hand and squeezed.

''I... I... need a minute.'' he admitted.

Jessie nodded quickly, long hair swishing.

''Love you.'' She whispered.

Rhett yanked her back for a soft kiss, wedding band catching the moonlight as he cupped the back of her head.

''Love you too.''

He whispered back, and meant it with every cell of his broken heart.

\---

A restless sleep, a run, and an emergency call with his therapist allowed Rhett to digest the revelation enough to feel back to normal by monday.

Normal enough that he could fake it, anyway.

Time did the rest.

The fact that he might love Link as... as _more_ .. that maybe he always had...

It was just another shard of truth he withheld for the sake of preserving their fragile friendship.

\---

“Do I get a pass too?'' Rhett asked his wife three months later.

''A pass? What?'' She grouched, stressed out and rightfully bewildered by Rhett's out-of-the-blue question, smack in the middle of packing school lunches.

Crap.

Rhett hadn’t noticed the army of neatly aligned bread slices and the mustard-covered knife in her hand.

''Uh, bad timing!'' He back-tracked.

''Do you need me to, um, slice cucumbers?'' He asked. And did just that at her tired nod.

What a way to mess things up! Stupid. Rhett was certifiably stupid.

''Do you mean a celebrity sex hall- pass? '' Jess asked eventually. Slyly. The grumpy eyebrows were gone.

''Um, uh, yeah, I guess.'' Rhett stammered.

''What, did you get Jason Momoa’s number?'' Jessie was grinning now.

''No, silly.'' Rhett threw a cucumber slice at her. He missed. It landed on the floor.

''Just. I don’t know. We didn't really talk about it.'' Rhett bent down to pick up the cucumber slice.

Hidden by the counter, he fumbled for words.

''You don’t have to say yes. Really. Probably shouldn't. You weren't serious. I think. I won’t mind.''

Straightening with a grunt, Rhett stared at the flecks of gold that glimmered in grey quartz. It was like a galaxy, inside their counter.

''In fact, you _should_ say no. You know what, forget I said anything!'' Rhett chickened out.

''Rhett McClaughlin.'' Jessie scolded. ''Out with it. Just tell me, oh my god!''

Rhett swallowed. 

''Well, we kinda _maybe_ mentionned, in passing... not seriously really, I don't know. About me, uh, trying stuff out. With.''

Rhett glanced at the kids, flopped in the living room.

'' A dude.'' He whispered.

''Uh, huh.'' Jessie replied noncomittally.

Rhett continued wretchedly, now that he'd started...

''See I’ve been thinking... I don’t think it should be one of our friends. In case things go wrong. Or, like, in case I don’t like it. Also, they all know Link, and how would I explain the... situation. Anyone from work is even worse, for obvious reasons.''

Jessie was done stacking meat, she was adding cheese. And listening intently.

''What am I supposed to do, post a Facebook add? Go on Tinder? What if I get recognized?'' Rhett asked.  
  


''We have that awards show coming up, you know? The one in Vegas.''

Jessie started slipping sandwiches into tupperware. 

''The one I bought the purple dress for.'' She clarified.

Rhett nodded. He hadn't forgotten she and Christy were coming along, if that was what she thought. Quite the contraty, actually.

''We got the list of YouTubers at our table today.'' Rhett couldn’t keep excitement from creeping into his voice.

He fumbled for his phone; dragged up the email and tilted the screen for his wife to see.

''Ah.'' She said.

''Him.'' She pointed. On the same page as Rhett, obviously.

''It does seem providential.'' She added. It was such a quaint way of phrasing it, Rhett couldn't even...

''He's very gay, and very out. So damn out... He seems like a fun guy.'' She listed. ''And he’s single.''

Rhett nodded, biting his lip.

''You want to, what... seduce him? Propose a fling?'' Jessie spoke with her back to Rhett, digging in the freezer for water bottles she'd placed there earlier.

Rhett shrugged, nodding guiltily. ''I.. uh, guess so?'' 

His wife had quite a nice _back_ , Rhett wasn't opposed to sitting at the counter and staring.

''I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.'' Jessie mused, doling out granola bars.

''He isn’t, not really.'' Rhett confirmed. Damn she knew him well.

''But I think he's a great choice. He’s not bad-looking, he’s actually really cute. Just so... goddamn flamboyant.''

''And he lives in New York.'' He added. There couldn't be any worry of anything serious developping with thousands of miles between them, which was perfect.

Jessie looked at Rhett for a long time.

''That doesn't sound like a celebrity hall pass to me. I don't think being a YouTuber with less subscribers than you have counts as being a celebrity.'' She said. ''It sounds like... just a pass. Or a change in our relationship.''

Damn it, she was right.

''I’ll think about it.'' Jessie promised with a kiss.

''I will. We have a lot to talk about. Maybe we need to do couples therapy.''

Rhett agreed.

''But right now,'' Jessie said. ''There’s soccer practice and I gotta get going.''

Rhett hugged her tight first, until she squealed.

''Thank you.'' He breathed into her hair.

Jessie was awesome.

_Maybe._ Rhett thought as he started on the dishes.

Maybe he was going to be more than _hypothetically_ bisexual soon.

He ignored the little voice that asked _What about Link._

This was not about Link.

This was about Rhett.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are evolving nicely, wouldn't you say? Jessie turned out to be a rockstar, I think I'm in love.
> 
> In my head, I know who this future-partner Youtuber is. However, I have enough issues with my conscience for writing RPF. I am not going to start writing cross-over RPF for someone who does not even have a fandom on AO3. So you can fill in the blanks in your own filthy mind with whomever you feel fits.


End file.
